


last night’s love affair is looking vulnerable again

by ladyroxton



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 32,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxton/pseuds/ladyroxton
Summary: The various drabbles and AUs of two ridiculously co-dependent assholes.





	1. they are dead and they are gone [1/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch Verse (OG Verse): A prophecy. An arranged marriage. Two witches who hate each other. What could possibly go wrong? Murder. The answer is murder.

"I brought you some sandwiches," Gus said. His face remained neutral - no smile or sympathetic look."There wasn't that great of a selection left."

Livia kept her eyes on the floor, as she swung her feet back and forth. Her shiny, black shoes serving as a much needed distraction. She picked at a thread coming loose from the black lace trim. The dress was a size too big, and she'd been hastily put inside it so the back button wasn't even properly done.

"Your Maw Maw said you should eat something. Said you missed breakfast." He held out his hands for her to take the food.

She eyed the pathetic little sandwiches wrapped in a paper napkin, but didn't reach for one. She focused her gaze on the grandfather clock that stood right before them, following the pendulum (a new word for her) as it swung. Another back and forth. _Tick. Tick. Tick._

Gus glanced around the room. Most of the adults were in the living room - some talking, some crying - they were stuck in the foyer on a bench. "Did you see Mrs. Handly's dress? The seams look ready to burst. My Paw Paw said she looked like a sausage stuffed in too small a casing." Gus smiled, but returned to that neutral expression when she didn't laugh.

Livia pulled at the thread until the lace began falling away from the hem. She picked at the it, ripping it just a little until the delicate pattern looked like a mess. Like the destruction of a spiderweb. She'd never wear the dress again anyway. She scuffed her feet along the floor.

Gus sat quiet, just momentarily trying to find something to say. He placed the sandwiches between them and glanced at her then turned to follow her gaze at the clock. "The ceremony was -"

Her feet finally stopped, mid scuffing. She quickly closed her eyes, as a tear or two made their escape. There was a sob stuck in her throat, so she pressed her lips tightly together to keep from making a sound. Or a scene.

Concern washed over Gus's face. He knew _that_ look. Knew it down to his core. It wasn't that he knew her and when she was ready to cry because he'd spent maybe three hours with her in the last two years. But he knew that look. The look when everything suddenly felt real. "- they're gonna tell you sorry," Gus said. He leaned back and looked at her, even if she wouldn't look at him. "Sorry about your mom. How great your mom was. Some might even say ‘is', and realize their mistake. They'll apologize for that." He paused, but not for more than a couple of seconds. "They're gonna look at you like ‘that poor child' then walk away. But sorry doesn't mean anything to you when you watched the person who loved you most be put in the ground."

Livia turned her attention from destroying the dress and looked at the older boy.

"My Maw Maw died last year," he explained. He didn't give her a sympathetic look, like the adults would give them both. That wasn't what she needed, and he knew it more than anyone.

She picked up one of the slightly squashed triangle sandwiches and took a bite.


	2. i wanna make a big mistake [2/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch Verse (OG Verse): A prophecy. An arranged marriage. Two witches who hate each other. What could possibly go wrong? Murder. The answer is murder.

"Having fun?" Michael asked as he sat down next to Livia on the steps behind her father's vacation house. He learned very early in his relationship - if you could call it that - with Livia not to gawk at the size or make comments about how it was bigger than his regular house. _Talking about money is boring._ So, said the girl with the silver spoon in her mouth.  
  
"He brought his slut to my graduation party," Livia replied. She shouldn't have expected anything less; actually, she hadn't expected Gus to show up at all. He hadn't gone to her sixteenth birthday or her eighteenth for that matter. Why he showed up to a reminder of the fact that she was now legal in the eyes of the law was beyond her. Well, luckily for him, they had three more years.  
  
No, this was to taunt her. Punish her for existing. A day about her accomplishments now upstaged by Augustus fucking Lesauvage and his blonde bimbo who drank just a bit too much and laughed just a little too loud.  
  
"Fuck him."  
  
Livia laughed. "Oh, I have three years until I have to do that."  
  
Michael rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant, Liv, and you know it." He placed his hand on her knee. "Ignore him. You are Olivia Grace LeBeau, and you take shit from no one."  
  
"Even you?" she asked with a small grin.  
  
"Especially me." He chuckled before glancing at the pair in question. Gus was different from Daniel, though, Michael was certain he'd show nearly the same disdain for Livia's boyfriend. She'd punch him in the arm if he used that word. _You're not a boy and I don't fuck my friends._  
  
Livia sighed. "He makes this so much harder, you know? Treats me like I have the goddamn plague."  
  
"His loss."  
  
She placed her hand over top of his and squeezed it lightly. She wanted to believe him, and part of her did. It was Gus' decision to treat her like shit for nearly a decade. But they were friends once. She missed that - not that she'd ever say it out loud. Liv took another sip of her drink. It was weak champagne. Of course, her father wouldn't waste the good stuff.  
  
Michael tossed back his drink then leaned in close to her. "His loss because you are by far the most beautiful girl in this entire goddamn coven. His loss because you're smarter than most. Remember, Liv, he's the one missing out - not you. Guys like Augustus Lesauvage are a dime a dozen. But you're one in a million."  
  
It was corny, and she should have smacked him for even trying to use a line like that on her, but she liked feeling important. And that's why she kept Michael - sweet, inferior Michael - around. Because she felt better than him. It was cruel, and she didn't care. And all Liv wanted to do was kiss him, not just at any moment though. No, she waited until Gus' glance had come their way then she acted. Show her soon-to-be fiance that she chose this no name, poor as shit warlock over him.  
  
If Michael noticed her timing, he said nothing. Another reason she liked keeping him around.


	3. hard like a rock cold like a stone [3/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch Verse (OG Verse): A prophecy. An arranged marriage. Two witches who hate each other. What could possibly go wrong? Murder. The answer is murder.

The party was lovely, and everything Livia expected from a Lesauvage family gathering - expensive and boring. She'd attended them ever since her father could wrestle her into a pretty dress and know she wouldn't wobble over on unsteady toddler legs. The room was a knock off of the Grand Ballroom at the Plaza. Pretty as a picture, though. God, how Liv hated that phrase. Pretty as a picture that she wanted to tear into little pieces and burn to ash. Her heels clicked lightly on the marble floor as she walked past her stepmother and younger sister.

Livia planted her best smile on her lips, and began to mingle among the well-dressed crowd. She heard more happy birthdays and congratulations than she ever thought possible, but the question that followed each proclamation made her wish her drink was just slightly stronger. "Where is Augustus?" _Yes, where exactly was Gus?_

"He will be here," Daniel promised. "My brother does keep his word." He paused. "Usually."

Livia stepped closer to Daniel, bringing her champagne flute to her lips and finishing the drink. "Of course, he will." She remained unconvinced. Daniel had more faith in his brother than Livia ever did. She glanced around the room then looked him in the eyes. "And if he isn't, you'll just have to dance with me," she teased. Daniel was always kind to her when Gus had decided that she was nothing more than the annoying little girl who came to visit every summer. But Daniel was predictable that way, and she ignored the long glances that he'd sent her way since that first summer she had boobs.

Then the gilded doors opened and in walked the gallant prince. Literally. Augustus was wearing a crown. She passed her champagne flute to Daniel, and began to make her way towards him going past the various tables with their crisp white linens and waiters pouring copious amounts of alcohol. Sometimes Livia worried her face would freeze in that fake, happy smile. It wouldn't; though, that would make moments like this easier. Smile, be happy, control Gus, pretend to be in love. The list went on and on. The world was a stage, and it sucked everything out of her.

"Ah the wife!" Augustus said a bit too enthusiastically.

"Not yet," Livia teased. She could smell the liquor on his breath, and in all honesty, the thought of slipping a few extra drinks had crossed her mind. It would make the night at least somewhat bearable, but one of them needed to be coherent. Knowing Gus, that someone would always be her.

Augustus leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head playfully for him to kiss her cheek.

A crowd of family friends, business partners, and coven members gathered around them. The center of attention. Appropriate considering it was their engagement party, and Livia tried her hardest not to be resentful of the fact that it was overshadowing her birthday.

"I wouldn't kiss you when I was thirteen, and I have no plans to kiss you now when you smell a fucking distillery," she whispered sharply, leaning in so only he could hear. Then she looked towards the crowd and laughed, planting on that smile that said nothing in the world was wrong. She'd perfected it at eight when they buried her mother, and she'd been whisked off to live with her grandmother because her father couldn't bear the sight of her. It was almost unsettling how easy it was to fool people when they so desperately wanted to believe nothing was wrong.

Everyone knew the truth. The inner circle was small. The same people who said their congratulations knew how empty the words truly were, and Livia wasn't sure if that was an embarrassment or a relief. Everyone in on the charade that would be her marriage. She couldn't help but fidget with the ring that now weighed down her finger.

Livia took Gus's hand led him towards the sharks on the dance floor, though no one was dancing. The band on the stage played some soft music she'd never heard before. It was all just background noise to the business talks going on. Such a great way to spend her twenty-first birthday. If they were lucky maybe protection spells would fail, and the room would catch on fire so she could make a break for it out onto the balcony. 

They weren't that lucky.


	4. a revelation in the light of day [4/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch Verse (OG Verse): A prophecy. An arranged marriage. Two witches who hate each other. What could possibly go wrong? Murder. The answer is murder.

Gus stood in the corner of the lavishly decorated ballroom nursing his scotch as all the happy people danced around him. Though he could easily ignore the people he merely tolerated for the sake of the family business and the coven, he couldn’t help watch as she danced. When they were children, he once exclaimed that she was as graceful as a swan. Every move and step calculated, though you'd never tell that at one point she had to count the steps in her head and almost always insisted on being the lead. They endured endless dance lessons as children.

"You should be happier on your wedding day," a voice said.

"A farce of a wedding," Gus replied turning to face Daniel. About an inch taller with dark hair compared to the dirty blond that covered his own head, Gus always hated that he had to look slightly up to his older brother. 

Daniel sighed, the same exhausted sigh that he reserved only when Gus inevitably did something disappointing. "Come on, Augustus, she deserves -"

"You don't think I know what she deserves?" he interrupted. He took a sip of his drink, and let the liquid warm the back of his throat. It wasn't nearly strong enough. "I grew up with her too." Though, unlike Daniel, Gus didn't follow her around like a lost puppy just waiting for her to notice him.

"She is -" Daniel started. 

"My wife, and not yours." Gus laughed, letting a ruthless grin cross his face. "Second born, but finally not second place."

"Augustus," his brother replied, stepping slightly closer. He kept his voice hushed as to not cause a scene. 

Gus' gaze turned back to his new wife. She smiled and laughed so easily with their guests who in turn smiled and laughed at the undoubtedly charming joke she just told. It was mesmerizing watching her effortlessly make an entire room fall in love with her. Gus returned his attention to his brother, who was now also trapped under her spell as he'd been since the moment she first walked into their house back when they were scrappy young children. "You should stop underestimating Liv. Her nails are almost as sharp as her tongue."

Daniel snapped out of his daze. "I have no doubt Olivia can handle herself when it comes to the likes of you, but she shouldn't -"

Taking another sip of his drink, Gus laughed, though only received a perplexed look from his brother. "Careful. That sounds dangerously close to treason, Danny boy."

He sighed again, they'd played this game for seventeen years. And Daniel was tired. "You won. Is that what you want to hear?" Daniel asked. "You won, and I wish you a lifetime of happiness with her."

Before Gus could answer, his attention was grabbed by Liv motioning to him to join her among the sharks they called their family friends. Her smile wavered, and he knew her well enough that she was getting tired. Not that she'd ever admit she needed rescuing. Not Livia the Livid with her stubbornness as strong as steel. She'd never ask for his help, though he would love to hear those words. So dancing would be her excuse for the needed interruption. "Ah yes, but what exactly have I won?"

"Gus -" Daniel tried again.

Gus smiled once more then downed his drink before handing the empty glass to his brother and joining Liv on the dance floor. Time to do his husbandly duty and fend off the sharks encircling his bride. He ignored the fact that her gaze met Daniel’s more than once and not his as they danced. No doubt contemplating whether she should have chosen the more pliable of the two Lesauvage boys. _Choice._ There was no choice. So what exactly had he won?


	5. with wine as my savior [5/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch Verse (OG Verse): A prophecy. An arranged marriage. Two witches who hate each other. What could possibly go wrong? Murder. The answer is murder.

Livia didn't know why she was nervous. It was not like she was some blushing virgin who had never been kissed let alone been fucked. No, the great Augustus Lesauvage was not taking her virginity that night. But none the less, she smiled and blushed as the council made lewd jokes. She gulped her champagne and wished so hard that it was scotch or whiskey or anything stronger than the pink sparkling drink in her hand. Pink was romantic and girly and somehow the only appropriate drink to have at her wedding. For just a second she glanced towards Gus and wondered what exactly was in the flask that he had hidden in his coat pocket.

"We will need proof of consummation," Daniel said, his eyes adverted as if he were scandalized by all of this.

Livia smiled, though there was no happiness in it. "And you will surely get your proof...after." The smile suddenly turned to a pout - one she had perfected long ago - and a few tears brimmed her eyes though none fell. "I just want to spend a few minutes alone with my husband. Is that too much to ask?" Her voice began to squeak as though she were on the verge of tears. Really she was calculating in her head just the strength of the spell to force every single person, including her husband, out of the room.

But the men in her life were weak, and never could stands the tears of a woman. Daniel coughed nervously. "We will give you privacy, of course," he said while ushering the other men out of the room, but he himself lingered for a moment and he sent an almost sympathetic look towards Liv. And she had to wonder if it were truly sympathy or jealousy that he was feeling. Possibly a combination of both.

Livia knew how Daniel looked at her, and it was not the way someone should look at their sister-in-law.

Once the door closed, Livia walked towards Gus, opened his coat to grab the flask he had hidden away. She unscrewed the top and took a long gulp. The liquid burned her throat, but it gave a slight sense of calm. She took a deep breath and turned around, pulling her hair off her her neck and over her shoulder. "Unzip me," she told him, as though she had to walk him through. She didn't.

When her dress was unzipped, she stepped out of it, clad only in her underwear, then picked up the gown and laid it over one of the chairs. Her movements were almost clinical, all calculated because this was not a moment of passion. It should have been, and maybe if their lives had been different it could have been. If the council had left them to their own devices instead of sitting them down at the age of twelve and fourteen, respectively, they might have fallen in love on their own. Maybe. Might have. It was all nice thinking, but the fact of the matter was that Olivia LeBeau and Augustus Lesauvage were not in love. This day had been planned since the moment that Olivia graced the world with her presence. The final pieces of a blood prophecy in place. 

It was disturbing.

"Let's get this over with."

For just a second, Livia looked Gus up and down, noticing a response to her scantily clad state. At least her husband wasn't completely repulsed by her, but being attractive had never been a problem for either of them even during their awkward years of puberty. Her eyes followed Gus as he turned off the lights. As if darkness would somehow make this easier. And possibly it would, not having to actually look at the other. A nervousness crept upon her, and suddenly, Livia wished they had more alcohol.

Finally, Augustus sat on the bed, and she joined him on it. 

"I feel like a fucking virgin," he mumbled. 

Livia pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh at his words, but she couldn't help the smile that crept upon her lips. If even for a moment, it made her forget the nervousness that had taken over her. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?" she asked him. "How scandalized do you think the old men out there would be if they found out that neither of us fit that category? Well, maybe not in your case." The old double standard. Women were supposed to be pure, while men were supposed to sow their wild oats. But she hoped that her reassurance to Augustus that he wasn't taking her virginity and she had no romanticized hopes for that night would make things a little easier.

It shouldn't have been this difficult. They were both attractive and experienced people, but there expectations from those who were no doubt waiting on the other side of that door. They could do this. It was just sex. She'd had sex with boyfriends who she barely liked. Why was this so difficult? Because it was a night she'd known would happen since she was twelve. She didn't even know what sex was back then, but she knew you were supposed to love your spouse and a wedding night was special. For the first time, she wished she did love him.

Livia's smile had vanished, though. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. They had to get this over with and the sooner it was over, the sooner they could go on pretending the other didn't exist until the next month when she was ovulating. The fact that her wedding had been planned around when she ovulated wasn't lost on her. This was supposed to result in a child. Not love. They weren't allowed to forget that.

She crawled under the comforter, and peeled off her underwear before letting them fall to the ground. She'd never been self-conscious of her body before. She wasn't one of those beautiful girls who didn't realize they were beautiful. Livia knew she was beautiful. She wouldn't pretend otherwise for some pointless sense of humility. 

Gus avoided her gaze, angry at his own body for betraying him. "I, uh -"

"Pretend I'm that girl. The blonde. Might make it easier."

He said nothing, but crawled under the covers. 

Livia took his hand, and placed it over her cunt. Her fingers placed on top of his fingers. He might have been ready, but women were a little more complicated than that. She moved his fingers slowly, rubbing his pointer and middle fingers gently over her clit and labia. When wetness coated his fingers, she glanced at him and nodded. She was ready, or at least as ready as she could be.

* * *

When Gus finished, he climbed off of her and rolled on his side so that he could not see her.

Silence lingered.

Livia didn't move. Instead, she stared towards the ceiling reciting the names of each council member in her head. Oh, she'd give them their miracle prophecy baby, and then she'd dance on their graves.


	6. you should not have thrown stones [6/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch Verse (OG Verse): A prophecy. An arranged marriage. Two witches who hate each other. What could possibly go wrong? Murder. The answer is murder.

"Is he with his whore again?" Blanche asked, sipping what could only be her fourth glass of wine. Daniel visited that day; Livia only heard the tail end of the conversation - the elders were getting impatient. She wasn't pregnant, and they weren't any closer to getting their miracle baby.

Livia wiped her lips with her napkin before pushing away her dinner plate and looking up at her mother-in-law. "He is out. I do not know who with, nor do I care." She did care, but she wouldn't ever let anyone know that. She wouldn't give anyone leverage over her emotions or feelings when they could so easily be used against her.

Blanche laughed. "Such a perfect little wife, aren't you? He doesn't deserve you." The older woman looked at Livia sympathetically, as if she knew exactly what she were going through. "You could have my sweet Daniel, you know, but they forced that little beast on you. I should have drow-"

"That's enough!" Livia didn't know why she was offended. She didn't love her husband, and their entire world knew it. They smiled and paraded around in public as though they were the perfect pair. _Loyalty._ That was it. Augustus was Blanche's son, and no one should speak of their child in such a manner. Livia stood from the table and began walking towards the doorway. She didn't want to hear about Gus' mistress or how the saintly Daniel would never dream of having someone on the side. Yes, saintly Daniel who would promptly hand over her child to the greedy hands of the council, no questions asked.

Before Livia could leave, she felt Blanche grab her wrist. "Liv, I've heard him speak against the coven. They will believe you and give you Daniel if you just tell them. We can rid ourselves of -"

Livia yanked her wrist free. "I don't want Daniel. And I will never hear you speak that way about Augustus again. Where is your loyalty to your son?" 

Blanche stood straight, looking at least a little sobered with Livia's words, but there was a determination in her eyes that Livia had never seen before. "I heard him that day in the study. Going on and on about wanting Daniel dead to free himself from the council. I listened as my youngest son committed treason and wished death on my sweet boy. And, now, he continues to bring shame on my family with that little whore. I will not have him bring shame on my grandchild." With that Blanche began walking out of the door, turning back, she looked at Livia with almost pity. "If you do not inform the council, I will."

The next few seconds passed in a blur, and Livia didn't realize what she'd done until she was standing over Blanche with a carving knife in her hand. The blood pooled beneath the older woman, and Livia could only sink back further into the dining room. It was all so human. Human and bloody and not at all the neatness that followed all of Livia's past wrongdoings. Though murder was a new sin for her.

Her hands shook and she dropped the knife. Panic seized Livia - the coven would certainly cover up Blanche's death, and they couldn't kill Liv until she'd given them their precious little miracle baby. But she would only be safe until then. Scenarios ran through her head. She could pretend it was a home invasion - the witch hunters were an easy scapegoat. They broke in, and poor Liv barely escaped with her life. It would be easier without the body. 

Livia's hands were red and sticky. She wiped them off on her dress and took her phone out of her pocket. Blanche always complained how attached both she and Gus seemed to be to their phones. Why the older generations of the coven were so against technology, Livia couldn't completely understand. Now, she was happy that she'd kept the phone with her because she wasn't sure she'd be able to make it to the other room with how heavy her legs felt. Her fingers shook as she found Augustus in her contacts. Not once in the course of their marriage had she called him when he was with Kate. He was free to do as he pleased, just as she would be once their child was born and the farce they called a marriage was over. But he was the only person she could call. 

The phone rang four times before going to voicemail. Livia hung up, this wasn't something she wanted recorded. She called him again. It rang and rang. Voicemail. On the fourth call, someone finally picked up. "I need you to come home now, Gus," she said as clearly as she could before hanging up the phone because she did not want to argue over whatever she had just interrupted. It was easier to pretend Kate did not exist. And pretending meant not knowing definitively.

Livia began pacing as she waited for Gus to come home. She wasn't even sure he would come home, but she had faith that her husband would just realize how serious the situation was from her voice. For all Livia cared, he could come and go as he pleased. Though, recently, she found herself missing his company - even when all he did was subtly (or not subtly) complain about the council. There was no one in her entire world who understood what she went through every single day, every month except for him. At one point, she considered ending him after the child was born. It had been her plan since she was twelve and finally understood the gravity of their situation. She would never admit it aloud to anyone. 

Then something changed.

It wasn't like a hurricane that came in swiftly and destroyed everything in its path with wind, water, and mud. It was like a shore eroding - slowly then suddenly the damage was done and there was no going back. Augustus wanted to be under the council's thumb as much as she did. And when given the choice between Gus and Daniel, there really wasn't one. Because Daniel would always choose the council.

Livia tried to calm her breathing because she didn't want to be a sniveling mess when her husband returned home. She could change her clothes, wash the blood off, and make the house seem like a small tornado of witch hunters came through and murdered Blanche. That would be a loophole - more destruction - because the coven had set up laws and regulations on magic long ago. Magic could not be used to fix capitol crimes against coven members. Livia didn't actually think Gus would believe her - why would they kill Blanche, but leave her, the potential mother of a magical miracle baby, unscathed? They wouldn't. Her husband was many things, but not an idiot despite the amount of times she'd called him such. 

She'd have to tell Augustus everything, and pray that he hated his mother enough to be on her side.

If the tables were turned, Livia wasn't entirely sure if she could side with Augustus, but then that would mean her deciding whether or not she actually loved her family. It was easy not to think about it, especially now when she did not live with them. Certainly, Livia felt some love towards her sister. Savy was only eleven, after all, and it was hardly her fault that there was a rift the size of the Gulf between Livia and their father.

When she finally heard the door open, she prayed it was Gus and not Daniel making some unannounced house call. Though, it would be easier to fool Daniel. All she'd have to do is start sobbing and telling him some terrible story about being attacked. And Daniel would believe her because she was Olivia LeBeau - the scrappy little girl who used to beat his brother in cards and spent her summers catching fireflies. Daniel's love was easy to manipulate, and Livia would if need be. 

But it wasn't Daniel who walked through the door.

Livia stood there, waiting. Despite the pacing, she hadn't moved very far from the spot where she'd taken Blanche's life. It still seemed so much like a nightmare - like something had come over her that she couldn't control and all the actions had been someone else while she watched. There was only one other time she'd felt this way, and that had been her wedding night. Disconnecting was the only way to get through it, and what she and Gus were forced to do. She wouldn't say it was necessarily better now, but she didn't want to vomit every time he finished inside her. And he no longer avoided her gaze as guilt overcame him. They knew, and had since they were twelve, what would happen if they betrayed the coven. Death. For Gus, at least. She would be passed like a rag doll to his brother. And if not her, Savy once she came of age. Though, Livia doubted the coven would wait ten more years. 

Gus stood before her, a blank look on his face as he surveyed the scene in the dining room. 

She grimaced waiting for him to curse her. Threaten to tell the council who would undoubtedly lock her up and throw away the key except for the months she were ovulating when her dear husband would be allowed his conjugal visit. In vitro was against nature, but magic wasn't. 

But Gus didn't curse or threaten her. He just laughed. "My my what a mess Livia the Livid has gotten herself into. Where's the mop, dearest?"


	7. right in front of me [7/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch Verse (OG Verse): A prophecy. An arranged marriage. Two witches who hate each other. What could possibly go wrong? Murder. The answer is murder.

The funeral was over, and Livia had never been more relieved to return home to that big, empty house. Daniel tried to shoehorn his way in, likely wanting to reminisce more about his dearly departed mother as if he hadn't already spent hours praising her name. Livia feigned exhaustion before Gus could say something rude. She was still annoyed with him about Kate showing up, and her own role in their subsequent breakup. Men were weak, but she already knew that.

The house was quiet, the staff having been given the day off to mourn; though, Livia doubted they did. She poured herself a glass of scotch. Her first drink of the night. There were pretenses that she had to uphold during any public gathering. Namely, to convince the council that she and Gus were serious in their endeavors to conceive. And women trying to conceive were not allowed alcohol.

Gus also poured himself a drink, though, certainly not his first. Now that Blanche was in the ground, or parts of her, at least, thanks to some bayou gators, he felt freer than he had in years. No Blanche. No Kate. The complications in his life slowly disappearing, leaving only one. Livia. But as of recently she was the one complication he wanted to hold on to for dear life.

"I'm going to bed," Livia announced once her glass was empty.

He nodded, noting that there was no invitation for him to join her. But he couldn't be too disappointed as it wasn't a sanctioned night and he had no right to sleep in her bed period. As he watched her ascend the stairs, he poured himself another drink.

Only minutes later, Livia's voice rang through the house. "Gus!"

She didn't sound distressed, so Gus did not run though he didn't linger either. When he entered her room, he took note of the soft lighting and her standing towards her full-length mirror.

Livia turned to face him.

"Yes, dearest?" he asked, though inwardly he regretted his words, hoping she wouldn't take them as sarcasm. He'd made her mad enough that day.

Livia bunched her hair to one side, draping it over her shoulder. "I need you to unzip me." She turned around once again.

She didn't, and he knew it. There were spells she could easily mutter to unzip her own dress, but she hadn't. He stepped closer towards her. With one hand he unzipped her dress and with the other, he began to push the strap down. "You were magnificent today," Gus told her. Scary, but magnificent.

A laughed escaped her lips. Magnificent in manipulating those around her. Many would call that a flaw, but Gus saw it as her strength. "The trick is to tell people what they want to hear."

"And what do I want to hear?"

Livia grinned. "Ding dong the witch is dead?" She turned so that she could face him. "Blanche is burning in hell?" Livia began to remove her earrings then kicked off her heels. Slowly stripping away the costume she wore. She bit her lip, thinking. Or pretending to, at least. She stepped towards him, just inches from his face. "The streets will run red with their blood." Their. The council. Poor pathetic, dead Blanche just a casualty in their vendetta. Doubtful to be the last.

Gus reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips. A silent promise to make her words reality. His lips lingered, and when she didn't retract her hand, he pulled her close to him. His arm snaked its way around her waist, and his lips pressed hard against hers. Her dress now beginning to fall. Half on, half off. He waited for her to slap him or pull away. Instead, she placed her hands on his cheeks, returning the kiss.

This was the second time he'd kissed her since their wedding. They never kissed on _those_ nights. Because it wasn't about that. She didn't want to kiss him on those nights. She didn't need false pretenses of romance and feelings that simply weren't there. But this...this was different. And _those_ nights were days away. She started it, taking his hand and pulling him towards her bed. Pushing down her own dress until she was clad only in her lacy bra and underwear.

"Are you sure?" he asked, placing his hand on her cheek and brushing his thumb against her skin.

"Yes."

That was all Gus needed to hear. He pulled his shirt off over his head then gently pushed her back onto the bed, his body soon covering hers. He began at her neck. Biting on the sensitive skin. Nothing to leave a mark. He didn't dare, not yet. He moved down, kissing her ribs and stomach as his fingers slid underneath the bra she was wearing. Then he turned his attention to her inner thigh, sucking lightly on her skin. His thumb rubbing gently against the outside of her underwear.

Livia moaned. Eyes closed, her fingers running through his hair. She felt vulnerable with him between her legs, expecting him to strip her naked next.

But Gus didn't. Instead, his fingers caught the side of her panties, pushing the thin fabric to the side.

Her breath quickened. "What are doing?" she asked. Livia wasn't stupid; she obviously knew what he was doing. But it was a far cry from the standard missionary position that consumed their sex life.

Gus smirked. "Tasting you." He positioned himself under her right thigh, resting her leg over his shoulder as he free hand continued to hold back the fabric that previously covered her sex.

Livia was soaking, and she had to resist the urge to cover her wetness, as if it were shameful. Instead, she focused on breathing and the way his lips felt against her thigh. Teasing her. "Gus," she moaned, writhing underneath him.

Her arousal was apparent to him, but he did not want to satisfy her just yet. Instead, Gus began by pressing his lips around the entrance of her cunt. The more she wriggled, the more he wanted to prolong her agony and pleasure.

She whimpered. Soft and low. One of her hands clutched his hair, pulling it lightly while the other rubbed her exposed breast. Her bra haphazardly covering her. Livia pushed her hips just slightly towards his face, begging for release. Then she felt his tongue flat against her cunt, licking her from bottom to top. Still teasing her. "Gus," she half moaned, half whined. The tip of his tongue danced around her clit, sending a spark of pleasure that sent shivers throughout her entire body.

Gus savored the taste of her. His own arousal growing. Livia LeBeau pulsating with desire for him. Never in his wildest dreams could he have expected that. He took his tongue away, returning to teasingly kissing the outside of her core.

"No," Livia whined, pushing her hips again towards his face.

He didn't make her wait too long, before returning his tongue to her swollen folds. He sucked lightly on her clit, as he slipped one finger inside of her. Rhythmically pumping it in and out of her.

She released his hair, this time gripping the sheet. Then gasped.

Gus added a second finger, curling them just ever so slightly upward. He flicked his tongue back and forth across her most sensitive bundle of nerves, increasing the pressure.

Livia felt herself beginning to tighten around his fingers. She was so close. Agonizingly on the edge. "I want you," she breathlessly said. It was the first time she'd uttered those words.

Gus looked up towards her, that signature smirk on his face. It was then that he pulled her underwear off before he trailed kisses up her body, refusing to give her what she wanted.

She shifted underneath him, desperate. "Please," she moaned as she reached down to push off his pants that he was annoyingly still wearing.

"Eager?" he asked, finally undressing. His lips connected with hers as he slid his cock inside her. His thrusts were slow. He didn't want her to finish, not yet at least.

Livia whimpered. "Harder," she whispered into his lips before lightly nipping his bottom one with her teeth. She'd never demanded anything before. Their previous endeavors awkward and quiet. Victorian, she once joked, though neither found it particularly funny.

Gus began to pick up the pace, his thrusts rhythmic but harder, pushing further into her core. His lips didn't leave her skin. Her jaw. Her neck. He'd never noticed just how enticing they could be, or that there was one spot that made her moan louder.

Livia began to tighten around him. So close. Her breathing heavy. Her chest heaving. She couldn't muffle her moans even if she wanted to. Then she felt his hand on her outer thigh, finger tips brushing against her skin until he reached her cunt. Livia bit down on her bottom lip before once again, moaning, "Please."

He obliged, running the pad of his thumb across her clit.

His touch was feather light, but it was enough to send Livia over the edge. She buried her face into his chest as her walls tightened around his cock and an orgasm rushed over her like waves.

Gus' thrusts were faster now, as he felt himself getting closer. His own breathing getting heavier.

As Livia finished, she placed one hand on his cheek, bringing her lips to his, but only for a moment. She turned her head just slightly so that she could whisper in his ear. "Are you going to come for me now?"

Her breath was hot against his skin. Her words breathy and dripping with desire that he'd never elicited from her before. It was all he needed. One deep, final thrust and his own orgasm overtook his body. When he was finished, he collapsed next to her on the bed.

Livia glanced over at him, a smile on her lips as she regained her composure.

Gus extended his arm, inviting her to lay next to him. Panting, also trying to regain his composure. They'd had sex before, certainly, but nothing like that. Mutual passion - a new development in their relationship.

She laid her head on his chest, his arm now wrapped around her. She listened to his heart beat as it began to slow to normal.

He placed one final kiss on her forehead.

Livia closed her eyes. Oh, boy, was she in trouble.


	8. and now none of you [8/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch Verse (OG Verse): A prophecy. An arranged marriage. Two witches who hate each other. What could possibly go wrong? Murder. The answer is murder.

Livia was dead. Gus knew it the moment he walked into the altar room. The room they barred him from as she brought their daughter into the world. In the distance he could hear the baby crying. He was well aware Livia would want him to run to their daughter. Comfort her before the ceremony. Before her magic nourished the entire coven. Let her know mommy and daddy tried their best. But Gus' legs would not move that way, instead he stumbled towards the altar where she lay, pale and cold. Blood drenched the sheets. The smell was overwhelming.

He didn't remember picking her up, or sinking down next to the golden altar with her in his arms. Nine months. He'd had her nine months. His love began in blood, almost fitting for it to end that way too. Gus was unsure how long he sat there cradling his dead wife. He could no longer hear the baby's cries. And he didn't hear the footsteps either, taking no notice of his brother until he'd knelt before him. No her. Before her. "What happened?" Gus demanded.

Daniel said nothing for a moment, his own shock leaving him speechless. They'd told him, of course, but he didn't believe it. Couldn't. Until now. "There were complications."

"Complications? Are they not witches?"

"They couldn't risk the baby."

The baby. Her baby. He never wanted children. Never asked her if she wanted them either. Nevertheless, there was now an impeccably decorated nursery across from their bedroom.

Daniel ran his fingers through Livia's soft tresses. He couldn't believe she was gone. He blinked back his tears. Everything he ever wanted gone. After the baby was born, she'd no longer be tethered to the Philistine he called a brother. 

Gus did not hide his tears. A vile mixture of fury and sadness building inside of him. He only looked at Daniel once he heard the baby's cries again in the distance. A reminder of what killed his wife. "I can't do it without her." Though he knew neither the council nor Daniel would give him the chance. Undoubtedly his wife was dead because they knew they'd never control her again. She had something to fight for, after all.

"She needs her father."

He laughed, the bitterness tasting like bile in his throat. It turned into a sob and he choked.

Daniel placed his hand over Gus'. "Livia would want you t-"

"Livia would want to be alive!" Anger consumed him. Daniel telling him, of all people, what Livia wanted. Daniel, who believed every word she spoke. He took every smile and sickeningly sweet gesture to heart as if Livia wasn't manipulating him the entire time. He looked at his brother, he almost felt sorry that Daniel never knew the magnificent, terrifying woman under the mask Livia wore. "She was happy. Despite everything." The council. Their marriage. For a fleeting time she was happy. They were happy. And Gus hoped it burned Daniel inside that he wasn't the reason for her happiness. That she'd been happy in spite of him and the council.

"Gus -"

"Do you remember that summer we caught fireflies? That stupid crown she insisted on wearing every single day?" He laughed, genuinely. The memory of Livia in her crown with her dressed covered in mud. A contradiction. Many he'd notice over the years. "Her smile when we chased them. She could light up the fucking sky. That smile." Would the baby have her smile? He choked on another sob. "Then she lost it."

Daniel looked away. "I remember."

Gus smiled down at Livia, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "She found it again. Tried to hide it, but when that baby kicked..."

"She'll need a name." Trying to remind Gus of what he still had.

"I love her, Danny. I don't think she knew." For years Gus tried not to get attached to her, or the thought of being her husband. What man truly deserved Livia LeBeau? Certainly not him. It was easier to hate her then the loss when she inevitably left him might be bearable. But she wormed her way in; of course, she did.

Daniel was silent. For as long as he remembered his thoughts were consumed by Livia. For years his jealousy festered knowing that his unworthy brother would have her. Corrupting her soul. Slowly eroding the kindness and beauty he'd fallen in love with.

A clock chimed. Only an hour until midnight and the ceremony. There was no fighting it now. Him against the coven? Though death might be a kinder feeling. "I should have told her."

Daniel wasted no time, standing and rushing towards the other side of the altar now stained with her blood. He pushed off the soiled sheets, then returned to his brother's side, placing his arms underneath Livia's body.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" Gus snapped, ready to hurl as many forbidden curses at his brother that he knew. He possessively pulled Livia closer to him.

"Do you want her back or not?"

Gus' eyes widened. Resurrection was not possible.

"The council is vulnerable," Daniel revealed. "The ceremony requires it." He scooped Livia into his arms, gingerly placing her on the altar. He uttered an incantation, her body slowly returning to color.

Gus watched, dumbfounded. A small cut on her finger from that morning now gone. Her body perfect in every way. She looked more asleep than dead. He rarely paid attention during their lessons as children, but he knew this was forbidden. Something only those privy to the council learned.

"Someone will have to take her place. Balance must be maintained. A life for a life." Daniel moved towards a small table where the midwives had left their potions. He mixed different vials until a black liquid formed.

"I'll do it," Gus said without a second thought. He couldn't live without her after having loved her. But she was stronger. Always had been. Once that fact was a thorn in his side, now a great relief.

Daniel did not argue. He worked quickly, muttering another incantation, the potion turning a murky gray.

"What do I do?"

"Stand beside her and take her hand." Just as Gus' attention turned to Livia, Daniel downed the potion and promptly fell to the ground.

Of course, Daniel had to be the hero. If he weren't already dying, Gus would kill him himself. Daniel the noble. Daniel the brave. No doubt he wished to forever be cemented in Livia's mind as the hero of this story and not the villain.

* * *

Livia was cold. Gray. The room around her a pale imitation to the altar room of the coven. A limbo, she surmised. The place between life and death, where her fate would be decided. Her sins weighed against her. And there were so many of them.

She'd taken the Lord's name in vain more than she could count.

She stopped attending church at sixteen.

She never honored her father.

She killed.

She stole.

She lied.

Livia suspected it was the killing that would sign her fate. Going to hell for doing the world a favor by removing Blanche Lesauvage from it. Or maybe her fate was to be stuck here alone for all eternity, her own mind creating a personal hell.

"Livia!"

Or maybe she spoke too soon. She rolled her eyes. Sending Daniel to haunt her for her transgressions was far from the "big guns". Did they not know how to torture? Shouldn't it be her mother? Scolding her, making her cry and beg for forgiveness for being a terrible disappointment. "You're the best they can do?" she asked.

Confusion covered Daniel's face. "We only have a few minutes, then you'll wake up," he said, taking her hands and cupping them in his own.

Now she was confused. "What are you talking about?"

Daniel placed a kiss on her hands. "I took your place...so that you may be with your daughter."

"Why?" she demanded. There had to be a catch.

"Because I love you," he replied, as if it were absurd she did not already know. As if he'd never made his devotion known to her. "I have loved you for so long, Livvy. You consume me."

She laughed, jerking her hands away. "You love me?" she spat. "Then when did you let them rape me? Why did you let them murder me?" She was screaming now, tears of anger and disgust in her eyes. He loved her? Big fucking deal.

Wounded, Daniel was silent as he reached for her hands again. "What my brother did to you was heinous. It killed me to let it happen."

Livia stepped back, releasing her hands from his grip. "Your brother didn't do anything to me," she hissed. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "You forced him. The council forced him. You stood outside the fucking bedroom door and listened while the council raped us."

"Stop!" He held up on hand, begging. The council required many sacrifices from all of them. "I could have stopped it, you're right. If they'd only chosen me for your husband.

Her mouth hung open for a moment. The room was spinning, some color returning. Her stay in limbo quickly coming to an end. "You would have used me as a broodmare and happily handed over my babies to be abused by the council."

Daniel ran his fingers through his hair, convinced these were not Livia's words. Not his sweet, kind Livia. Of course, Gus would poison her against him even in death. "I would have treated you like royalty. I would have kept you from them."

Her from them, not them from her. Locked in a tower to be his play thing, his perfect little Livia doll. Her hands began to shake, the room becoming hazier as Daniel's grip on life was fading and her life quickly returning.

"Livvy, we don't have long."

"Daniel," her voice gentle, sweet. "You're right. And there's something I never told you." She stepped towards him, leaning in close. "I killed Blanche." A grin crossed her face. Livia did not see the look of devastation she knew would be on Daniel's face. For that she couldn't help but be a little disappointed, but as air filled her lungs and she felt Gus' lips against her temple - imagining it would just have to do.


	9. all of my life i've been frozen [9/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch Verse (OG Verse): A prophecy. An arranged marriage. Two witches who hate each other. What could possibly go wrong? Murder. The answer is murder.

Livia wasted no time. She sat up on the altar, swinging her legs over the side. Shakily, she stood. She threw her arms around Gus' neck. Her lips finding his before he could fully figure out what was happening. Breathlessly, "What time is it?"

Gus fumbled looking for his phone. "11:30."

She let out a deep breath. "We have time."

"Time for what?" He watched his wife, her movements frantic.

Livia's mind was racing. Dizzy. The room spinning as her body adjusted to life again. She gripped the edge of the altar, trying to gain control over thoughts and body. Ignoring the sob stuck in the back of her throat, she stood straight. She died. But that didn't matter. Not now. She'd deal with it later. Now, she was alive, and they had her baby.

"Liv."

"I need Daniel's blood." Her gaze darted to the midwives' potions. They would do her no good, but the chalice and athame would. "And yours," she added.

Gus didn't move, though he knew there would be hell to pay. "Talk to me."

She stood still. The room not longer spun. Her strength returning. "If Daniel can perform a forbidden spell, so can I." Livia picked up the chalice. "I am going to bind her magic."

He was stunned. Much like the resurrection, he didn't know binding was even possible. None of their coven would willingly deny their children their birthright. "How long?"

The memory of the spell she saw long ago in her mother's books ran through her head. Perhaps her mother believed it would save her daughter. But Livia's destiny was at twenty-one long after the binding would wear off. Her mother's magic likely wasn't strong enough for it anyway. "Thirteen years." 

Gus grabbed the chalice and knife from her. He leaned down to his brother's body, maybe taking a little too much pleasure in mutilating it. He squeezed Daniel's blood into the chalice before wiping the athame off on Daniel's pristine jacket. Gus slit his own hand and let his blood drip into the cup. 

Her turn. She didn't wince as the blade sliced through her skin. Her resolve strong, her adrenaline pumping. Livia placed the chalice on the altar. Blood of the mother. Blood of of the father. Blood of the dead. Livia began the incantation. The words burned in her throat. Forbidden. But she didn't care. Though she was wavering.

He took her hand, repeating the words she said. Though the spell was beyond him. Still, he hoped with their magic combined, Livia would be holding her daughter very soon.

The blood ran black. "Let's go," she said running to the doors. She sensed Gus behind her. 

The ceremony room was nothing overly special. Plain even, but there stood the council in their robes, her baby in a bassinet in the middle of them.

"Olivia."

Rage flowed through her, though it was no surprise her father was first in line to leech off his granddaughter's magic. He didn't blink twice when he sold his daughter like a lamb to the slaughter. "Hi, daddy," she said, pushing past the robbed council members.

Gus followed close behind his wife. He took a moment to remember the names of those would hurt Livia and the baby.

Livia reached the bassinet, and carefully lifted her little girl. She was more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. "Hello, my love," she whispered. "Mommy is here and no one will hurt you."

"Olivia, it is almost time," her father impatiently said.

She laughed, a smile on her lips as her daughter began to drift off to sleep in her arms. She'd be hungry soon. Livia's milk hadn't come in yet, but they had formula at home. "No."

Jacob LeBeau stepped towards his daughter, grabbing her by the elbow. 

Now it was Gus' turn to rage. "Get your hands off her. NOW." While Livia was the more murderous of the two, Gus had no qualms with killing every single council member in the room and their families, for good measure. 

Jacob released Livia. "What do mean 'no'?" he asked through gritted teeth. 

Livia looked up from her baby, a devious smile on her face. "I bound her magic." She returned her attention to her daughter. "Yes, I did. Mommy bound your magic so these dickwads can't hurt you," she said in a singsong voice. She placed a kiss on the infant's forehead. 

Gus moved in close, his arm now around Livia's waist. There was no fury like hers, and it fueled him. Her rage and her love feeding his own. 

"You can't do that," her father spat.

She grinned. "But I did." It was intoxicating being the most powerful witch in the room. Second to none, not even Gus. And one day her daughter would take her place. A dynasty, no doubt.

"It is forbidden!" another council member squeaked.

Livia gasped, mocking the man. "You're not in charge anymore," she replied defiantly. For years Livia never realized her full potential. The whole reasoning behind their magical miracle baby was the fact that Livia and Gus were the strongest of the bloodlines. Why else would the council have chosen Gus over Daniel? Certainly, Daniel knew more spells, but knowledge was no indication of raw power.

"You would destroy the coven?" her father hissed.

She looked at Gus for a moment, then their daughter. "Daddy, I would slaughter you like a fucking pig if meant keeping my baby girl safe." She shrugged. "What's the coven to me?"

Gus watched Livia with pride. So many in the room thought she was a docile puppet with her pretty smiles and even prettier manners. The perfect little witch. He was the one they had to watch carefully, not her. How they underestimated what he'd always seen.

"Livia!"

Livia glanced around the room. Every face she recognized. Those who watched her grow, waiting until the day she would birth their savior. "You will accept the magic Gus and I bring to this coven. It is more than enough to sustain us. Then when she turns thirteen, she will decide to share her magic or not. You will not make that choice for her." Livia stepped closer to her father. Face to face. Once she feared him, loved him but no longer. "Accept or we leave. We don't need the coven, but you need us."

Gus wasn't sure if she was bluffing or not, but he wasn't about to give it away if she was. The truth was neither knew of life outside the coven's collective magic.

"Well, you've given us no choice. Have you, Livvy?"

She laughed. "Did you give me one?" She did not wait for a reply; instead, she looked at Gus and smiled. "Let's get this little girl home."

Gus nodded, keeping his eyes on the council members as Livia carried their daughter out...just in case someone was foolish enough to retaliate. The loss of Livia's magic was only acceptable when they thought they'd have the baby's power. But now with Daniel's death and their daughter's magic bound, they couldn't afford to lose her or Gus. 

In the car Livia breathed a sigh of relief. Her daughter peacefully asleep, likely a rare occureence from this moment out. When they got home, Livia wanted to do nothing more than to sleep. "Hold her?" she asked. "I need to make her a bottle."

"I-uh..." He hadn't held her yet, or even gotten a good look at her. "Can't you-"

Livia rolled her eyes. "I just gave birth, died, chewed out your brother, came back to life, bought us thirteen years, and my boobs hurt, but my pre-milk hasn't come in so I can't do anything to fix that," she ranted in a harsh whisper. "So sit down, stick out your arms, and hold your goddamn daughter."

Gus didn't argue. And as he held their daughter, he got his first good look at her. She looked like Livia. He was grateful for that. When she began to stir, he got nervous. All he could do was hope Livia would hurry.

"Give her to me," Livia said softly, a few minutes later with a bottle in hand. Their daughter was a good eater, eager to drink the formula and drift off back to sleep. She'd be awake again in three hours, at least that was what the books said. When the baby was finished feeding, Livia brought her upstairs to the bassinet she'd put in the master bedroom. Then she just watched. Ten fingers, ten toes. Wispy blonde hair that would no doubt darken with age. Blue eyes, but most babies had blue eyes. She was beautiful. Perfect.

He stood in the doorway, watching silently not wanting to intrude on them. If this was the longest night of his life, he couldn't imagine how Livia was feeling. Though, after a few minutes, he walked to Livia and wrapped his arms around her waist as he watched their daughter over her shoulder.

Livia placed her hand over his, squeezing it lightly. "They didn't let me hold her. I begged, and -" She attempted to choke back her sob, but it was no use. The tears flowed freely, and she turned to face him, burying her face into his chest.

Gus held her close. "I should have done more to stop them. By the time the barrier spell was lifted..." He didn't want to say the word. Dead. "I failed you."

She shook her head. "You gave me her."

He laughed. "You did all the work."

"I did...didn't I?" Despite her wrecked hormones and aching body, she laughed. 

Gus kissed her forehead, still keeping her wrapped in his arms. "We need to give her a name."

Originally, Livia planned to name their daughter for her mother. Elisabeth. But looking at her, she didn't look like an Elisabeth. There were other names she considered, but only one fit. "Octavia. Octavia Grace Lesauvage." Months they argued over the last name - LeBeau, LeBeau-Lesauvage, Lesauvage-LeBeau. Livia refusing to give up her last name, but she didn't want their daughter associated with him. Jacob. And luckily most of the Lesauvages were dead. 

"I like it," he said. "You should sleep. I'll watch her."

Livia nodded, turning away from him.

But he caught her by the hand and spun her to face him. "Liv, I -." He paused. The words got stuck in his throat. Ten months ago he could barely stand her. The only thing that united them was mutual hatred for the people who forced them together. Though, something was there. It couldn't have been just him who felt it. And now there was this whole other person they made, but they hadn't talked about what came after.

"I love you too, dummy." And then she slept.


	10. ruined birthdays and sparkling diamonds [1/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Political Verse: Two trust fund brats navigate the world as their respective fathers run for political office.

There were moments in Livia’s life that seemed to move so slowly that she was forced to remember every excruciating detail. Her mother on her death bed, the subsequent shit show of a funeral that followed, and this. Gus fucking Lesauvage ruining the biggest birthday party of her young life. It wasn’t just that he needed the attention, oh no, she long suspected he took a thrill in torturing her. And his goddamn Jag in her pool was no exception. There were two options - she could laugh it off, pretend it was all planned and a big send off to her guests or she could run away and cry. She chose the latter because the former would mean she’d have to get Gus of his sinking car, and she hoped he drowned.

Liv sunk into her bed. If she were a normal girl, well there wouldn’t be a Jag in her pool for one, her mother would come in and comfort her and tell her boys were stupid or whatever mothers said. But her mother was dead and her father and his trophy wife were out of town, leaving Liv to throw her own party because they thought she was so responsible. Ha! She buried her head in her pillow and the tears just kept flowing as the body guards her father had watching her cleaned up the mess that became her Sweet 16.

Through the tears she began to imagine the terrible ways she’d make Gus pay. Leak to the press he was gay, maybe. Or just post every single embarrassing photo of him that she had online. Or pay some nerd to ruin his GPA even more than he’d done himself. A knock on her door startled her back to reality.

“Go away!” Livia screamed, partially muffled by her pillow.

The door opened, just slightly ajar. Eyes peeking in.

“Go -” she started, sitting up. But when she got a look at the Gus at her door, she grabbed her pillow and threw it his way. “AWAY!”

Gus shut the door quickly, only to block her damasked, fluffy assault. After a second or two, he opened the door. “Liv, I’m -”

“You’re dripping on my carpet,” she said between sniffles.

He looked down, realizing that he was still in his pool soaked clothes. “Oh,” Gus said. He began taking off his shoes to which Liv threw another pillow his way.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Gus sighed, as if she were the one being ridiculous. He left the shoes outside her door then stepped inside and closed it behind him. He then took off his jacket, but this time had sense enough to go into her bathroom to leave it in the shower. She didn’t have many pillows left to assault him with, so he figured she’d turn to heavier objects before the night was over.

“What are you doing in my room, Augustus Alexander Lesauvage?” Livia demanded, now sitting up in her bed. Her eyes following him. What was he going to do now? Break the sentimental knick knacks on her bookshelf? Burn the stuffed animal collection that sat in her window seat?

He winced at his full name. “Do you want your birthday present or not?”

She glared at him. “You mean the Jag wasn’t it?”

Gus smiled at that one, walking over and sitting on the edge of her bed. He ignored the scowl she sent his way. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a box that unlike him was dry. “Here,” he said, handing her the thing as if it were nothing.

Livia took the box, but waited before opening it. Gus could easily be pulling another trick on her. Stealing a Tiffany box from his mother to give her some horrible gag gift. But there was a look in his eye, an eagerness to please her. Like a puppy, waiting to be told he was a good boy. She pulled on the ribbon then lifted off the top. And for the first time in probably their entire lives, she was speechless. Livia almost didn’t think it was real. The Tiffany necklace that dropped into a [pendant](http://68.media.tumblr.com/952303443fb514cd5912022e93337ec9/tumblr_onr1p69KC01upg126o1_1280.jpg). She begged her father for it. _“I don’t need a car, daddy, I need this necklace!”_ He hadn’t bought her argument.

“Beautiful things should be worn on beautiful girls,” Gus said, simply.

She looked up at him. “I can’t accept this.”

Gus smiled, placing his hand on her cheek. “Of course, you can.”

“I still hate you.”

“I know.” He inched closer to her. That was their relationship, wasn’t it? She hated him, and he cared more than he wanted to admit. Sometimes, only rarely, he thought maybe she didn’t hate him as much as she said. That they were friends beyond their forced interactions and almost shell shocked existence. That it was more than necessity for their own sanity. He took the box from her hands.

Once he’d put the necklace on her, Livia couldn’t help but look in the mirror. It was more beautiful than she imagined.

Gus followed her gaze, staring into the mirror for just a moment. He looked away, a bit ashamed. “I am sorry,” he whispered, placing his lips against her shoulder.

Liv turned her head to look at him, resting her forehead against his. She wasn’t sure which of them started it, but his lips were against hers and she didn’t push him away. Not like when the summer they were thirteen and he became obsessed with trying to kiss her. She clocked him the head more times than she could count during those three months. It was affection she now craved. She pulled him onto the bed. Fervent kisses that took her breath away. Gus was still in his wet clothes. The dampness soaking through her dress. She found the buttons on his shirt and began to undo them.

“Liv -”

She kissed him, this time she knew it was her. She was starting this because it was her birthday and all she wanted was to feel something. Anything. And no one made her feel as much as Gus did. Whether it was love or hate, that didn’t matter to her.

Gus broke the kiss. “We don’t -”

“I want to,” Liv replied.

He nodded, taking off the shirt she’d unbuttoned for him. Letting it drop onto the floor, she didn’t complain about the carpet that time.

Liv rolled on top of him. Her lips against his again, straddling him. Her fingers artfully undoing his belt buckle. She broke away to catch her breath. “I’ve never-” 

Gus didn’t say anything, instead he ran his hand up her back until he found the zipper of her dress. Their clothes ended up on the floor. His hands touched the curves of her body until his lips settled on her neck.

She bit her lip, but that didn’t stop a soft moan from escaping.

It was different than she expected. All the girls in her class said how much it hurt the first time. The horror stories of inexperienced teenagers in the throes of hormones and passion. But Gus was gentle, like she might break beneath him. His fingertips touching her in places she only dared in cover of darkness, and his lips rarely leaving her skin. When they finished, he wrapped his arm her, letting her fall asleep against him.

The sun rose and that brought them back to reality.

“I should go,” Gus murmured into her hair.

Liv kept her eyes closed, her head still on his chest just listening to his heartbeat. “Shhhh, we can pretend a little longer.”


	11. focus on the negative [2/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Political Verse: Two trust fund brats navigate the world as their respective fathers run for political office.

As Livia sat on the cold tile of her bathroom floor with Gus at her side, it wasn’t hard to remember exactly what got her into this predicament. It started with an argument. Most of her less than stellar life choices did. And like most of her less than stellar life choices, it traced back to her father. Juilard was a big fucking deal. Her dream. The only thing she wanted in her entire life.

And he said no.

So, she climbed into Gus’ bed at three am. It wasn’t even her intention to fuck him. He was her distraction from the white powder she hid in a baggie under her stuffed animal collection, and Livia certainly didn’t need sex for Gus to distract her. But there he was and there she was. Which is how things usually happened between them.

It was so easy to get. The coke. Most of the dancers had connections. And even if they didn’t Livia was white and rich - everyone and their brother knew some dealer. Some dancers took adderall. But there was no euphoria in that for her. And she wasn’t just looking for something to get her through 5 am yoga, 7 am track, school, and 3:30 pm dance.

So that’s how Livia Lebeau ended up on her bathroom floor waiting for a goddamn piece of plastic to tell her whether or not she just fucked up her entire life.

_“Need a ride home?” Livia asked Gus that afternoon. She knew he did, his parents took his car after his fifth speeding ticket._

_Gus didn’t say anything, just threw his books into the back and slid in the passenger’s seat. It wasn’t until they were a good three miles in the opposite direction of his house that he realized she had other intentions. “Are you about to murder me?” he asked completely serious. “I swear, Liv-”_

_She parked. “I’m not going to murder you.”_

_He breathed a sigh of relief. “Then why are we - listen I know you like to do it in cars but you literally have no-”_

_“I’m late,” she interrupted._

_“Oh.” Gus resisted every urge he had to be a smartass and ask her what she meant. He knew. He also knew that while she might not have any intention to murder him now that didn’t mean she wasn’t planning it in the future. “We used a condom, and you’re so-”_

_“If you say anorexic, I will slap you.”_

_“-fit.” It wasn’t like dancers weren’t known to miss their periods. Even he knew that._

_“I’m really late.”_

_Gus looked at her. “How late?”_

_“Six weeks.”_

_“Fuck.”_

_Her sentiments exactly._

Livia rested her head on Gus’ shoulder. “I don’t want a baby,” she whispered. “Not yet.” She hadn’t really considered Gus in the equation besides telling him, and if she were truthful she only told him because she was selfish. Because she didn’t want to be sitting on the cold tile of her bathroom floor alone.

And it was Gus. Who else in the world could she turn to?

Their relationship was in an odd place. They weren’t dating, not in any traditional sense. Half the time they couldn’t even stand to be in each other’s company for more than a few minutes. Other times there was no one else in the entire world she wanted to be around. 

“We’ll go to Paris,” Gus suggested. No way could they go to some run-of-the-mill Planned Parenthood. They wouldn’t be the first from a well off family to plan an impromptu European excursion to hide the consequences of their ‘youthful indiscretion’.

Livia nodded. One minute to go.

“I’ll take you to Avenue Montaigne then we’ll drink away the night at the Moulin Rouge.”

She laughed. God, he never failed to make her laugh at the most inappropriate of times. “I think drinking our nights away is what got us into this mess.”

“Olivia Grace Lebeau, are you calling me a lush?”

She elbowed him in his side.

Gus turned to face her. “Listen, Liv, I’m here -”

Her eyes widened. Total panic. Livia could easily handle asshole Gus. Overprotective Gus. Partner-in-crime Gus. Even oddly-nice-because-he-wanted-something Gus. But she could not handle I’m-here-for-you-pseudo-marriage-proposal Gus. “If you get down on one knee, I will kick you in the face.” 

He busted out laughing. “Fair enough.”

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._ Timer done. 

Livia took a deep breath before stretching to reach the pregnancy test on her vanity. Now or never. **Negative**. She smiled and showed it to Gus. Bullet dodged. She’d get an IUD tomorrow, and never be in this position ever again. It would be easy to say she and Gus were done. This was their wake up call. No more casual sex. Or bored sex. Or daddy issue sex. But that would be a lie. Something would happen, and she’d end up in Gus’ bed again. Or he’d end up in hers. It was inevitable. 

They could say they were done, but they both knew that wasn’t true.


	12. the gutter [3/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Political Verse: Two trust fund brats navigate the world as their respective fathers run for political office.

Two am. Two fucking am. The time of morning that any sane person would be in their bed preparing for the undoubtedly long day ahead of them. But not Gus Lesauvage, and apparently not Livia Lebeau either. She groaned as his ringtone played on her phone. She considered ignoring it, but the words “Guess this means you’re sorry” kept repeating until Liv couldn’t handle the sound of Kelly Clarkson’s voice any longer.

“WHAT!?” she demanded.

“Uh…there’s a dude passed out on my bar.”

“Call-”

“No, he’s pretty insistent that someone named Libby needs to pick him up. And you’re ‘call if shitfaced’ on his phone. So…”

Livia groaned. “Livvy?” she asked, loudly.

“Yeah, Livvy!” She heard muffled and slurred in the background.

Call if shitfaced. If she wasn’t already planning his murder for interrupting her precious sleep, this sealed his fate. Her father knew people. His family might even thank her. Honestly it wouldn’t even take -

“Uh, are you coming?”

She sighed. Another person to add to her list. “Text me the address.”

Livia quickly threw on some jeans and a sweater. It wasn’t cold but the spring mornings were still chilly enough that she needed something on her shoulders. And if he threw up on her (again) at least it wouldn’t be on her brand new Jason Wu top. Of course, Gus had to end up at a dive bar. Why he couldn’t be a normal rich snob and end up at some posh nightclub was beyond her.

“LIVVY!” he yelled up seeing her.

She sat down on the bar stool next to him. “Whats-her-name with the IQ of five break up with you again?” she asked, yawning. Livia hadn’t bothered to call her security team. In fact, if Gus knew the details of her harrowing escape from the mansion by walking out the front door and stealing, well borrowing, her stepmother’s Porsche he might be proud.

“Noooo,” Gus replied, picking up his scotch glass and frowning upon realizing it was empty.

Liv placed her hand on top of his. He’d put her in this position more times than she could count since they turned fifteen. The summer they learned how to break into liquor cabinets and how to leak embarrassing headlines to the press. Gus claimed he popped her cherry by the lake at church camp. Liv claimed that was impossible because he exclusively liked boys. Neither of their fathers thought it was nearly as funny as their children did. Though they were never invited back to church camp again, so small miracles at least. “Gus…”

He yanked his hand away and pointed his index finger at her. “No. No. She did not break up with me. I broke up with her because I’m 'emotionally unavailable’,” he said mocking his ex-something or other’s voice.

“That sounds like she dumped you, sweetie.”

Gus shook his head and sighed loudly. She clearly was not understanding him.

“What happened?”

He looked down at his empty glass. “I don’t…she kept talking about marriage.”

“…and?”

Gus looked at her wide eyed as if he really needed to explain more. He squinted, trying to remember. Ah! “…I laughed.”

Livia shook her head. “Oh Gus…”

“I said there was only one girl I could marry.”

“Sweetie…Mila Kunis is already married.”

“Pffft,” he replied, lifting his glass again, disappointed it hadn’t magically refilled itself.

Livia brushed his hair out of his eyes with her finger. “Let’s get you home.”

Gus pouted. “I don’t wanna go home.”

“You can sleep it off in you pool house.” She’d have to lock him in because he would be the type to fall into the pool and drown. “Can you walk?” she asked.

He stood, well more like stumbled, off the bar stool.

Liv rolled her eyes and put one of his arms over her shoulders so he could lean on her. She’d practically mastered this walk of shame to whatever car or limo they had. When they actually arrived at the Mayor’s mansion, neither of his parents were waiting up. They too were used to this song and dance. Whatever damage he caused could be fixed in the morning, apparently.

Luckily, Gus hadn’t thrown up in the Porsche so this night was turning out better than most of his benders. She sighed, unlocking the pool house with the horribly hidden hide-a-key. Then she got Gus inside and onto the bed.

“Will you die if I leave you alone?” Liv asked as she filled a glass with water and raided the medicine cabinet for aspirin.

Gus looked confused then anxious. “I’m dying?”

She groaned. If he didn’t pass out again, this was going to be a long night. “Not tonight,” she replied before muttering, “but maybe when the sun comes up.”

He spent the next four hours passed out while Liv napped in one of the arm chairs. It left a crick in her neck. She considered climbing into bed with him, but the likelihood of him throwing up on her was still too high for her to risk it.

Around seven, Gus mumbled something. Enough to make Liv wake. “Talk to me.”

She always forgot how needy he was when drunk. “So who’s the lucky girl you want to marry?” she asked him playfully. Though Mila Kunis was a solid choice in her opinion.

“Something else.”

“Nope. Dealer’s choice.”

Gus groaned.

Livia smiled. Good he was suffering.

“Not fair.”

“Come on, Gus-Gus, spill your soul. It will make you feel better.”

He squinted. “Pffft.”

Livia waited. Two minutes nothing. Just staring. He hated that, and she knew it.

Gus sighed. “She doesn’t want me back. Pointless.”

Pointless to him maybe, but Liv wanted to know all about this illustrious girl who somehow managed to ensnare her something or other’s heart. Boyfriend wasn’t accurate. Fuck buddy too impersonal. Best friend…maybe…on days he didn’t piss her off. Worst enemy on days he did. Livia shrugged. “Her loss. She’s missing out on a great divorce settlement,” Liv joked.

It took a minute for him to register what she said. “HEY!”

Livia giggled. “I know how big your trust fund is.”

Gus passed out again, but Liv rolled him on his side to keep him from choking on his own vomit and made sure the water and aspirin were well in reach. The sun was rising and the Gov woke up at 8:30 every morning. The Porsche needed to be back by then.

She made it home just in time.

Gus woke about one in the afternoon with one of the worst headaches of his life. His phone buzzing, of course.

Supreme Goddess: if u ever have me under call if shitfaced again I will leave u in the gutter 😙

Supreme Goddess: enjoy ur hangover asshole


	13. big dreams bigger lies [4/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Political Verse: Two trust fund brats navigate the world as their respective fathers run for political office.

_“Olivia, nothing happens by accident in this family. Your husband can tell you all about that.”_

The Governor’s words repeated in her head. He was drunk, a rare slip for her normally tight lipped father. Drunk and bitter that she might have any chance at happiness that slipped through his fingers the day her mother died. Her death wasn’t an accident. Cancer. Livia checked every single report she could the moment she was old enough to truly comprehend the big words used to describe _cancer_. But if he wasn’t talking about her mother than who?

The even bigger question, what the fuck did Gus know that she didn’t?

Livia knew exactly why her father told her even if it was a slip - he did it to hurt her. To eat away at the happiness and love she’d created all on her own. He couldn’t control that, and it killed him.

And for days she tried to forget what he said, pretend it didn’t both her. Pretend he couldn’t get to her. Not with the walls they’d built to keep their parents’ neglect and abuse out of their home and away from their daughter. That was their plan, right? What they agreed on when they felt that first kick, a better life for Octavia. No lies, or deceit. Something different, better than what they knew. 

It was easier to ignore to not ask Gus directly those first few days. He was out of town, and their communications were texting and nightly skype to put Octavia to bed. Because Octavia needed to hear daddy’s voice if she was going to get any sleep.

Livia hoped beyond any anything that the nagging feeling in her gut would simply disappear by the time Gus walked through those doors. He’d walk through those doors. They would kiss and snuggle their baby. Then when said baby was fast asleep in her bedroom, Livia would show Gus just how much she missed him. A ritual any time Gus left town to do whatever event his father bullied him into. Livia could easily explain her absence - Octavia. 

When Gus finally did return home exhausted, Livia could forget for a little while. They kissed, like always. Snuggled Octavia, like always. Put her to bed, like always. Then fucked, like always. Even the day after, Livia could forget under the blissfulness of having her husband home again and the smile on Octavia’s face every time he walked into the room.

But the nagging feeling returned. _“Olivia, nothing happens by accident in this family. Your husband can tell you all about that.”_ She wanted to strangle her father, and probably would have if it weren’t for the armed secret servicemen bound to protect him. He put doubt in her marriage. He put doubt in Gus.

And not once had Livia ever doubted Gus.

“We need to talk,” she finally said one night. Octavia in bed. Staff gone.

“Hmmm?” Gus asked, looking up at her from his phone.

Livia smiled weakly and climbed into their bed next to him. He wrapped his arm around her, and she placed her head on his chest. “I had dinner with my father while you were gone.”

“That never ends well.”

Understatement of the century. “He’d been drinking -”

“Shocker.”

She groaned. “Let me finish.” She could feel his gaze on her, but she avoided it, focusing on the window instead. For a moment, she was quiet. Contemplative. Maybe she didn’t really want to know the answer, but at this point want was gone and need replaced it. “He said ‘Olivia, nothing happens by accident in this family. Your husband can tell you all about that’.” Livia looked at Gus. “What’d he mean by that?”

If Gus was panicked, he didn’t show it. “Liv, if I knew everything your father or mine meant -”

He was lying. She knew it. Gus always had a tell when he was lying - he’d remain calm but there was always a twitch. His finger, or an eyebrow. Something. He could lie to the world, but not her. And Liv knew that. “No,” she interrupted, sitting up in the bed. “What did he mean?”

Gus looked away from her. “I overhead my parents talking. About you. They said if I ever told you, it would…” he trailed off.

Livia placed both her hands on his cheeks, and forced him to look at her. “Tell me what?” she demanded. That nagging feeling replaced entirely by fear.

“The car accident.”

Confusion covered her face. _Car accident._ What - no. No. Livia felt like she was going to throw up. She still had a scar on her knee from the three surgeries it took to put it back together, only to be told that dancing professionally was out of the question. That the continual strain would cause irreparable damage. “What about it?” she finally squeaked.

“It wasn’t an accident -”

“No,” she said, climbing out of the bed. She ran her fingers through her hair before holding up one finger. “No. It was an accident. A drunk driver -” Liv could feel hot tears welling up in her eyes. She hated crying.

“Your father planned it.”

Livia ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and running the water in the sink before throwing up.

Gus knocked on the door. “Liv, baby.”

“Don’t call me ‘baby’,” she snapped.

“Open the door.”

She ignored him, splashing the water on her face and trying to process it. It was planned…so her father wouldn’t be the bad guy? Livia knew he didn’t want her moving to New York that was too much freedom, but never did she believe he could stoop so low.

“Liv, please, open the door.”

It took a solid five minutes to move from the sink to their bathroom door. Gus was still standing on the other side when she opened it. “How long have you known?” She didn’t look at him.

He focused on anywhere in the room but on her. “A few weeks after -”

Liv slapped him. She didn’t even realize she’d done until her hand stung. “You watched as I -” She couldn’t finish, tears staining her cheeks. “How could you not tell me?”

Silence.

She wanted to scream.

Finally, Gus spoke, “You wouldn’t get out of bed.” His eyes still on the floor. He couldn’t look at her because when he saw the look on her face, he’d lose it. “You said you wanted to die, Liv.” Gus looked up. The last time he saw such anguish, he held her. Now, she’d undoubtedly push him away.

“Get out.”

“I already found you like that once,” he said, a bit louder. “I wasn’t going to find you on the floor of your fucking bathroom again!”

“GET OUT!” Livia screamed. She didn’t wait for him to move, instead pushing him with all her might. “Get out of this house, or I swear you will never see us again.”

 _Us_. Her _and_ Octavia. For a moment, he almost forgot about their sweet girl asleep in her crib. He could call her bluff. She wouldn’t take Octavia from him, but there was a feeling that he couldn’t shake. A feeling that she would do just that. Disappear and he’d never see either of them again. Gus never wanted children. Never thought about it at least. Then Octavia was there. Liv put her in his arms and there wasn’t a world he could imagine without her. Her and Liv. His girls. 

“Please,” he begged, his voice was pathetic and he hated himself for it. He dropped to his knees. Anything. Because he was losing her. Losing them.

“I can’t look at you right now,” Livia said walking past him.


	14. hush little baby [5/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Political Verse: Two trust fund brats navigate the world as their respective fathers run for political office.

Livia doesn’t expect the transition to be easy. In fact, she knows all too well that none of this will be easy for Octavia. In the morning, Liv wakes early to make pancakes. The only breakfast she can successfully make, and the easiest for Tavi to chew with ever expanding top row of teeth. When Liv goes to get her up, she’s already standing in her crib. Toothy grin on her face, waiting.

“Mama!” she says, lifting her arms up.

Liv places kisses all over her face, that smile lifting her spirits. She doesn’t know how to explain to Tavi what’s happening. It’s not like the toddler could actually understand the reasons why her father now lives somewhere else. To her, he’s on a business trip again. Not that she fully understands that either.

It’s not until nighttime that Tavi realizes something is wrong.

Her mother puts her to bed, like normal. Her stories, her night-night songs, the whole song and dance to get her to fall asleep.

Tavi pulls herself up, holding onto the bars of her crib. “Dada,” she demands.

The moment Livia has dreaded. Because not once in her entire life has Tavi gone to bed without hearing her daddy’s voice. Rain or clear skies. Six hour time differences or jet lag be damned. Tavi hears daddy’s voice before bed.

“Dada!” she repeats, the tears welling up in her blue eyes.

Tavi’s sad face is killer. It tears Livia’s heart in two every damn time.

And Livia doesn’t know what to tell her. _Dada is gone._ But what does she know of gone? _Dada is on a bender._ That was a conversation for another decade.

The toddler stands her ground. Fists wrapped tightly around the bars. Ready to begin wailing.

Livia scoops her up into her arms. She doesn’t like co-sleeping. She’s always too paranoid to actually sleep. Those crunchy moms who swear by it are just asking for a dead baby, in her opinion. But Tavi is older now, and if it makes her sleep…

But she doesn’t sleep.

Nine pm. Eleven pm. One am. And all Livia wants is for Tavi to at least stop crying. She does for a solid thirty-seconds for asking again for Dada. When Dada is not produced, she starts again.

Two am and Livia is done. Ready to pull out her hair. Even when Tavi was a newborn, she wasn’t that bad of a sleeper. Up every three hours like clockwork, but at least she slept for three hours. Finally, Liv caves. She pulls out her cellphone and clicks on the contact ‘ASSHOLE EXTRAORDINAIRE’. How fitting.

The phone rings twice. Gus answers.

Liv is silent for a moment. Octavia’s screams are not.

“She needs her song,” Livia finally says. She puts the phone on speaker. He’s half drunk, she can already tell.

_Hush, little baby, don’t say a word,  
Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird._

_And if that mockingbird don’t sing,  
Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring._

_And if that diamond ring turns brass,  
Papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass._

_And if that looking glass gets broke,  
Papa’s gonna buy you a billy goat._

And before the song is over, Tavi is passed out.

“Thank you,” Livia says. Not waiting to hear his voice, she hangs up. It hurts too much.


	15. old habits die hard [6/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Political Verse: Two trust fund brats navigate the world as their respective fathers run for political office.

Livia stood outside her ex-husband’s apartment in the same spot she stood every other weekend and every single Wednesday to drop their daughter off for Gus’ visitation. She knocked, ignoring the voice in her head that told her this was a monumentally bad idea. If she ran quickly, maybe he wouldn’t see her. But her feet were planted firmly on the ground. The traitors that they were.

The door opened.

She took a deep breath.

For a moment Gus looked confused then panic took over. “Liv?” he asked. “Is Tavi okay?”

“I’m getting married.”

Silence.

Her heart beat faster.

“I know,” he replied.

“His parents are happily married. Like, disgustingly happy and well adjusted. And his mother just kept talking about how her husband is her best friend.” She glanced down at her feet for a second and blinked hard then looked back up. “All I could keep thinking was ‘my best friend isn’t here’.”

Gus leaned against the doorway. “Liv-”

“He’s never going to be that. I can smile and pretend, but-” The tears started and she couldn’t stop them.

He stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. “It’s gonna be okay.”

It was easier before it was all real. Back when they just used people to get back at each other. Back when Michael was for revenge. Now, it was real. This wasn’t some guy she screwed to make Gus jealous. This man was going to be her husband. “What am I doing?” The question was directed to herself, not him.

Gus took in her scent. She didn’t wear perfume, never liked the stuff. It was her shampoo - some ridiculously expensive stuff she got from Paris that smelled like…well how he imagined her. She hasn’t changed it in years. After a moment of utter quiet Gus spoke, “Do you want me to tell you not to marry him?” _Do you want me to be the bad guy?_ He meant.

 _Yes_. “No.”

He kissed her forehead.

She looked up at him, placing her hands on his cheeks and standing just slightly on her tippy toes to reach to kiss him on the lips.

“Liv-” He’d never been the type to stop her. Not any of the times she showed up at his door or climbed through his window because unlike her childhood bedroom his had the perfect trellis for climbing.

“I need you,” she whispered. Liv had been so good since getting engaged. She tried not to fall into old habits. “I want you.” That’s all she needed to say, wasn’t it? And he’d be putty in her hands. It was cycle that she couldn’t, and more important didn’t, break. She kissed him again, her tongue just teasing his lips.

Gus lifted her up in his arms; her legs wrapped around his waist. They ended up in the kitchen. Livia on the counter with her legs still wrapped around him. He pushed her onto her back, but her elbow smacked against the decorative fruit bowl he didn’t remember buying. The bowl crashed to the floor. Livia’s eyes fell on the broken shards. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, but it didn’t work. A giggle escaped. It wasn’t first thing they’d ever broken something in throes of passion, and certainly not the most expensive. Livia hopped down from the counter, avoiding the glass and walking towards Gus’ bedroom all while pulling him along by the hem of his shirt. She’d been in there before, some bachelor minimalistic bed set that she knew he didn’t pick out.

Livia kicked off her shoes then turned around, lifting her hair up so he could unzip her dress.

His lips found her neck, sucking lightly. He was tempted to leave a mark, something for her soon-to-be husband to find, but knew her wrath if he did. The temptation was strong though, if only for the punishment he knew he’d receive in return. Gus unzipped her dress. He pushed the straps down until it was past her chest. His fingers just grazed the lace of her black lingerie. He preferred the red numbers she kept tucked away. Back then they were for when he was “good”. She always did have a very loose definition for good.

She slapped his hand away and turned to face him before grinning. Livia let her dress fall to her feet then kissed him again all while pulling his shirt open. The buttons popped off and fell sporadically on the floor. Her breath was heavy, but she didn’t want to think. Thinking would mean turning back, and she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted Michael. More than she wanted any of her ex-boyfriends. Livia pushed him onto the bed, and didn’t waste a second before straddling him. Her lips found his neck, and her teeth scraped against it before she kissed him again.

Gus’ hand followed the curves of her body, his fingers only stopping when he’d reached her cunt. She was still wearing far too many layers in his opinion. He rubbed lacy fabric of her underwear, teasing her. Even on top, she liked to be teased.

“Not yet,” Livia whispered into his ear before nipping the lobe. She could feel his cock already hard, but confined to his pants. She pressed her body firm against his. Gus smelled so familiar to her. That cologne he’d worn since high school. She threatened him if he ever changed it.

He kept on hand on the small of her back.

Livia was now sitting on his lap, legs around his waist again. She took his hand and put his fingers into her mouth, sucking on them for just a moment before releasing them with a light popping sound. Guiding his hand, she slipped his fingers into her underwear.

Gus slid two fingers inside of her, his thumb teasing her clit.

She shivered. She buried her face in his neck, biting down again on the tender flesh. She moaned softly against his skin.

He sat up a bit more and with his ran his hand up her back, stopping to unhook her bra. His lips pressing against her left breast until his tongue found her nipple.

“Fuck!”

Liv unbuckled his belt, swiftly pulling it from the loops and dropping it. Oh, she could think of many uses for that belt if only he had a different headboard. Pity. She stood at the end of the bed in front of where he sat. She could end things now before they went too far. Instead, Livia slipped off her underwear. “Take off your clothes,” she told him. “And lay on the bed.” Once he had, Livia climbed onto the bed. Straddling his hips once again, she could feel his cock. Hard. Ready. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction…yet.

Gus ran his hand up her side, gripping her waist. “Fuck, Liv.” He was getting impatient.

She grinned and slapped one of his hands away. “Not yet.” Liv eyed his other hand until he let go then she pinned his arms down above his head. “Don’t move them,” she said. She leaned down and nipped at his earlobe again. “Maybe you’ll get a treat.”

He kept his arms down, though the temptation to touch her to have her was more than he wanted to admit.

Livia started at his neck. Alternating between light biting and kissing his skin down to chest to his stomach until she was between his legs. She began at the tip of his cock. Swirling her tongue around the head then running her tongue on the underside.

Gus began to move, the temptation to touch her becoming too strong. A fist full of her soft hair, the feel of her breasts. Anything.

She lifted her head. “Don’t!” She waited until he resumed his previous position. Hands above his head against his pillow. Livia really wished she had the belt now, but standing now might reveal the wetness between her legs and she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Not yet. Not until he was inside of her. Her lips explored the tip, letting his cock go deeper into her mouth though not so deep that he might finish before she was ready.

“Liv,” he moaned.

She smiled before removing him from her mouth. Livia gripped his cock with one hand and hovering just over him, ready to give them both the relief they craved. “Do you want me?” she asked.

“More than anything.”

Livia lowered herself onto him, biting her lip and closing her eyes for just a moment. She missed this. Their bodies connecting like perfect puzzle pieces. Pressing her knees firmly against the bed, she began to move up and down. She placed one hand on his chest, as her other hand slipped between her legs. Moving faster and faster, her fingers teasing her clit. “Are you close?” she asked.

Gus nodded, unable to speak, but feeling it building in the pit of his stomach.

“Touch me,” she commanded.

With one hand, his fingers grazed one of her breasts lightly pinching her nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

She leaned back, her ass now rubbing against his thighs.

With his other hand, Gus stabled her and grabbed her hip. When she began to move faster, he pushed away her fingers, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

“Fuck!” she moaned as her walls tightened around him.

Gus’ hands moved to both of her breasts, kneading them with his palms until he finished inside her.

Livia pressed her head against his, catching her breath. And pressing her lips against his one more time.

* * *

“This doesn’t mean we’re back together,” Livia said as she began searching for her clothes. It was the same line she’d said after all of their encounters.

Gus placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “I know.”

Livia quickly located her clothes and got dressed. But she lingered, waiting.

“I love you,” Gus said.

She closed her eyes. “I know.” I love you too. But she didn’t say it aloud.

“Please-”

“Make me hate you,” she said softly. It was the only way she could go through with it.

Gus closed his eyes for a second before opening them again. “I lied to you. I don’t love you and I never did.” He wanted to throw up. “You’re a self-righteous bitch who holds everyone but herself to a ridiculously high standard. You’re a horrible cook and you’ll never be any better.” He paused, gauging her reaction. She had none. “You would have dropped out of Juilliard after a semester. And your mother would be so disappointed in what you’ve become.”

Livia nodded, turning around to leave. At one time, she would have slapped him for any of the things he said. And at one time any of those, except the cooking, could have possibly ended their relationship. Should have ended their relationship if they had any sanity. He knew her greatest insecurities, but he didn’t mean any of the words he said. And she knew that.

* * *

Mid-morning, long after Livia left, Gus awoke to a TMZ alert. WEDDING CALLED OFF! Hours before saying “I do” America’s first couple calls off engagement and wedding. Reps for the pair refused to comment.


	16. nothing [7/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Political Verse: Two trust fund brats navigate the world as their respective fathers run for political office.

Political Verse

* * *

Something was wrong. No, she was being ridiculous. Nothing was wrong. Nothing. But Livia’s heart began beating faster and faster…and faster. She couldn’t breathe or speak or move. Something was wrong. She felt it down in her very core. Mother’s intuition, perhaps? She wasn’t sure.

“Liv,” a voice said behind her.

She didn’t turn around.

_“Olivia.”_

_“Daddy?” she asked, not even bothering to look up from her tea set._

“Livia,” the voice repeated.

She closed her eyes.

_“Sweetheart, I need to talk to you.” Her father moved closer, squatting down beside her and placing his hand on her back._

Her stomach churned. Bile rose in the back of her throat.

_Her father sighed, taking the tea cup from Livia’s hand and placing it on the table. “Something happened to mommy.”_

“Something happened to Tavi,” the man said.

_Livia frowned then looked up at her father. His eyes were red and his cheeks wet. She’d never seen him cry before._

_“Something bad.”_

_“No.” Bad things didn’t happen to mommies._

Livia turned to face her former brother-in-law. “No.” 


	17. i think we should run [8/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Political Verse: Two trust fund brats navigate the world as their respective fathers run for political office.

Livia doesn’t say much sitting in the hospital room. She listens as the doctors explain that Octavia will likely make a full recovery once the swelling in her brain subsides. That on the scale traumatic brain injuries their girl was incredibly lucky. Livia doesn’t feel lucky, and she could imagine the world thinking now that the Lesauvage curse had taken the most innocent victim. But Octavia Grace Lesauvage wasn’t just some little girl whose picture could be plastered on the cover of every tabloid that week - Octavia was _her_ little girl.

Gus doesn’t say much either, almost keeping a distance from both his estranged wife and daughter. His arm awkwardly in a cast, a reminder that he got off much luckier in the accident. He brings coffee and food that go undrunk and uneaten. When Livia finally sleeps or breaks down enough to leave the room for more than a minute, he just stares at Octavia.

It takes twenty two hours and thirteen minutes for Octavia to open her eyes, and promptly ask for her teddy.

Livia cries, and it’s the first time Gus has seen any emotion on her face.

He continues to keep his distance until Octavia demands his presence. “Daddy, I want ice cream.”

When Octavia falls back to sleep, her vitals stabilized and her breathing normal, Livia finally speaks. “We’re leaving,” she says. She’s climbed into the hospital bed with their daughter, who’s head was against her chest. She doesn’t like sleeping in unfamiliar places without her parents there with her.

 _This is it_ , he thinks. The last moment he will see either of them. His wife a broken, tired shell of her normally vibrant self. His daughter hooked to countless machines.

“The three of us,” she continues, running her fingers through Octavia’s hair. Livia finally looks up at Gus, the first time since the emergency room. _“It wasn’t my fault, Liv; I swear.”_ Her eyes are puffy and red, and he’s never seen her look so tired. “It’s our job to protect her, and we didn’t. We’ll never be left alone here. She’ll never be left alone.” Liv looks down again, placing a light kiss on Octavia’s forehead.

Gus stares for a moment, shocked that he’s included in the plan she’s concocted. “Where will we go?”

For a moment Liv doesn’t answer. “That house we tried to break into when we were seven. It seemed nice.” A pipe dream they had as children running away from their parents’ long sold summer homes. A two story house surrounded by a garden. An older couple once lived there. Their walls covered with family photos and happy memories. It didn’t really matter where they went. Just away from their families, and together with their daughter.


	18. domestic bliss in nowhere [9/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Political Verse: Two trust fund brats navigate the world as their respective fathers run for political office.

It was the morning after Octavia’s sixth birthday party. A solid fourteen hours after the headache of dealing with other children (and even worse their parents) was over. By all accounts a smashing success of a child’s birthday, though they lived in the bumfuck of nowhere so there wasn’t that big of a competition. Tavi wasn’t up yet; she appreciated her sleep as much as her parents did. But Liv was up, and had been for a good hour just waiting for Gus to stir.

He was still half asleep, those moments just before fully waking.

“I think I could handle another.”

“Hmmm?” Gus asked as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

Liv rolled over, propping herself up on one elbow. She looked at him, waiting.

“Another what?” He yawned.

She bit her lip. “Baby.”

Now Gus was awake.

“I think I - we - could handle another baby,” she stated, almost matter-of-factly as if there weren’t a million and one things to consider before even thinking about bringing another person into the world. Tavi, of course, being the biggest consideration.

Gus pushed himself up, leaning against the headboard. “Sweetheart, you said, and I quote, ‘if you ever put me through this again, I will stab you with a goddamn pencil’.”

Livia pouted. “You can’t hold against me what I said fifteen hours in and only five centimeters dilated, honey.” Her voice was getting sugary sweet which meant he should tread lightly.

“You hated being pregnant,” he pointed out.

Her eyes narrowed into a glare. “You try carrying something the size of a watermelon and see how you like it. No sane woman likes pregnancy - only crunchies and fundies.”

Gus laughed. She did have a point on that one. “And what about Tavi?”

“Tavi calls the dog her brother, and tries to make him have tea parties with her. I think she’ll be fine.” Livia pressed her lips together then smiled.

Then a realization came over Gus. “Are you _already_ pregnant and you’re testing me before you get mad at me for ‘being insensitive’?” he asked, including the air quotes.

Livia’s jaw hung open for a moment before she smacked his arm. “No!” she said before stressing again, “No.” But now she was mad at him, so she turned over and faced towards the doorway.

Gus smirked. He slid back down into the bed then rolled on his side. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. His lips pressed against her neck, and he took in the scent of her hair. Another baby wasn’t a decision to make lightly. But the idea of it after all the shit they’d been through filled him with a warmth he didn’t expect.

She placed her hand on top of his. Tavi was unplanned. A financial incentive in the early days of their marriage, certainly - a fact neither of them were proud of - but this baby would be completely of their own free will. Conceived free of their families’ meddling. An addition to the life they’d created for themselves and their daughter in the bumfuck of nowhere.

“As long as you don’t threaten to stab me with a pencil again -”

“I make no promises.” Livia grinned.


	19. chasing visions of our futures [1/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Historical Royalty Verse: With her father recently deceased, Livia awaits her impending marriage to a sheltered prince she's never met.

Her wedding would be lovely, no doubt. No expense or splendor spared for Queen Livia’s nuptials. If her father were still alive, he would have complained about the cost of her dress, a cream colored silk gown intricately decorated with gold and pearls, and certainly the growing guest list. Her father had no worries about the Duke of Something-Or-Other, her third cousin twice removed, feeling slighted. He was dead after all. Dead, buried. And she anxiously awaiting her coronation. _“A double coronation!”_ Her council suggested, she was less than enthused.

Livia paced around her quarters, ones that once belonged to her mother. Her council found it a curious decision why she did not take residence in the king’s former quarters, though they were of no great difference from the ones in which she now stood. None of her father’s other wives had been given such the privilege, and so for the time being she would reside in the rooms she was born and her father’s would remain empty until she decided otherwise.

Lucy, Livia’s cousin and a lady of the bedchamber, stood at the window keeping watch for the caravan of carriages to arrive. “You will wear out those floors before the sun has set,” she warned.

The brunette glared. A look many of her ladies had grown accustomed to in the days leading up to the prince’s arrival.

“They’re here!” one of the younger girls squeaked from her window.

Livia ran to it, only slightly shoving the girl out of the way. Her uncle would greet him, as per tradition Livia would not meet him until his welcome banquet the following night. “And his reputation?” she asked for what might have been the hundredth time.

“Better than your own.” Her cousin smiled playfully.

Livia glared. “Speak to your Queen in such a manner and you might lose your head!” she hissed.

She laughed. “Apparently, his brother feared the influence of court on him, and sent him off to the country.”

The young queen stood on the tips of her toes to get a better view out of the window. He was handsome, at least. No pox to mar his youthful face. There was a bit of a devilish glint in his smile that Livia could not help but find enthralling.

“The country has been well to him,” one of the other ladies said from her window.

“Out!” Livia screamed.

The lady frowned. “Oh, Liv, do not be so cross.”

Livia glared, any playfulness from the look gone only replaced by glowing anger. She grabbed Lucy’s arm. “You stay.”

Once the ladies had filed out, Liv glanced once more out the window. Her uncle finally leading the prince inside the castle walls. “You will sit out of the prince’s welcome masquerade tonight.”

Lucy pouted. “Oh, Liv! I did not mean anything by your reputation. It was a poor joke. The entire court sings praises of your chastity and piety.”

The queen rolled her eyes, in the most unladylike fashion. “It is not my reputation I worry. I want to meet him,” she said. “Before he begins his facade to please me. They all do.” She looked a bit sad, not even realizing that it made her feel such. _“The King is dead. Long live the Queen.”_ Everything changed the moment her father’s ring was placed on her finger. Everyone changed. No longer the flirty princess, but now the regal queen. Falsities and niceties replaced the banter of her youth. Maybe just for a night there could be the truth between them. 


	20. paper faces on parade [2/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Historical Royalty Verse: With her father recently deceased, Livia awaits her impending marriage to a sheltered prince she's never met.

The Welcome Masquerade. A tradition her father started when he married his second wife, a way to placate his young daughter into accepting her unwelcomed step-mother. Two more step-mothers followed in her place. Two dead in total from childbed fever, one living the rest of her days in a convent. No doubt marriage to her father drove her there. Livia was the one of few spared from his wrath.

Livia wore her cousin’s costume of pink and gold, her hair done up in intricate braids and a white and gold mask covering her face. Of course, those in her privy chamber knew exactly who she was, and if any of them dared to reveal her identity, they would be demoted faster than they could say “Your Grace”.

The dance had not changed drastically since Livia last participated, and she was always a quick study. The fanfare would begin, the younger girls would enter first then followed by the older ones. Ribbons and petals thrown about. And finally the lead dancer would place a wreath on the guest of honor’s lap. Livia took this role, of course.

When Livia finally got her first good look at him, her thoughts were confirmed. Oh yes, there was absolutely something devilish in his smile.

Augustus smiled, and played his part well, taking the wreath and holding it up triumphantly.

Livia smiled in return and rejoined the other dancers. When fanfare died down, the ladies scattered amongst the courtiers. Some went right for Augustus, but Livia stayed back for a moment to watch. Would he flirt with them? Invite one lucky girl back to his chambers? She had no doubt half of them would eagerly join the future king’s bed if they were assured Livia would not find out. Her ladies were on their best behavior, though, because they knew they were being watched, but Livia was not so interested in their actions but his.

Then a moment later their eyes met. Livia looked away, pretending to be the blushing maiden before making her way closer to him. Mask still on her face, like her other ladies. “Your Majesty,” she said, curtseying the appropriate amount of time before rising. Several of the other ladies dispersed but two remained.

Augustus smiled at her. “Thank you for my gift,” he said, motioning to the wreath.

“I am certain it will pale in comparison to the other gifts you will receive,” she replied with a coy smile.

“Oh, do you know what your queen has planned?” he asked, motioning for her to sit and join him.

Livia did, smoothing her gown once she sat.

One of the younger girls smiled. “Livvy, I mean the Queen, is quite generous,” she said quickly, trying to recover from her initial slip.

It took everything in Livia to keep from kicking her in the shin. Livvy was not a pet name he had any right to use. It was a name only to be used the privacy of her chambers, and certainly not in front of a man none of them knew.

The younger girl avoided Livia’s gaze. “I should join my sister,” she said, standing from her seat and scurrying away as if her skirt were on fire.

Augustus took a sip from his goblet. “Is your queen as beautiful as they say?” he asked. All princesses were beautiful until seen in the harsh light of day - no ambassador would dare not sing their lady’s praises.

Livia glanced from side to side before leaning in close. “You mustn’t repeat what I say. Her temper is unparalleled. I am certain the kind Ambassador told you she has beauty compared to the great Helen of Troy,” she whispered. “But there are far, far greater beauties in this kingdom than she.” Livia paused. “In all honesty, Your Grace, she is rather plain.”

If Augustus looked disappointed, he did not show it.

Maybe a plain wife was not the worst fate in the world.

Augustus glanced down at the wreath still on his lap. He was quiet for a moment. “There are rumors she has lovers.”

It was no easy task to stun Livia into silence, but this did. What exactly had court been whispering about her? “None of any importance,” she finally replied. It was likely the only truthful thing she’d said that night. She hadn’t seen any of her former lovers, except in passing through the corridors, since her betrothal was announced. There could be no doubt in the legitimacy of any heirs she conceived.

He nodded, taking in the information.

Livia could not help but wonder if he was changing his mind about their impending nuptials. There were dozens of eligible princes she could choose from, but none her neighbor. This marriage, much to her disdain, was important. She wanted to ask if he was nervous, but that would reveal her hand more than she wished. The point was not for him to figure out who she was, but for her to figure out who he was. Livia might be the Queen, and certainly, her people were a bit more freethinking than their eastern cousins, but God still dictated her loyalty and reverence to her husband.

She was nervous, and hadn’t realized just how much until this moment. The fun and pageantry over, she could see really see him. And he was just as young as her.

“Dance with me,” he suddenly said, as the music began to start.

Her brow furrowed. “Pardon me?”

“Will you do me the honor of sharing a dance?” he asked, this time pulling out his princely charms. He took another sip of his drink. It was almost empty. Augustus stood and offered her his hand.

Livia waited just a moment, certainly she could not hold against him anything he did before their wedding. Then she took his hand, and smiled a pleasing smile. The one she mastered before she could even read. “Of course, I will, Your Majesty.”

He pulled her to the dance floor, his arm around her waist as he twirled her around twice before they separated. Their hands connected then switched. Either he was a fast learner, or both their instructors were French. She turned to face him, and he placed his hands on her waist, lifting her up in the air. When he put her down again, Livia could not have been more an inch away from his face.

The music stopped. Eyes were on them, and her ladies were whispering. Livia gave Augustus a weak smile. “I must retire. Excuse me, Your Majesty.” She pushed away his hands, and quickly turned on her heels to leave. Luckily, her ladies had enough sense to give her space as not to arouse his suspicion.

But Augustus did not let her leave so freely, following close behind her. “Please, do not leave just yet.”

She stopped, closing her eyes for a moment. The deception now making her weary.

He stepped closer to her.

She turned around. Oh, he was certainly handsome and she could see why any of her ladies might be charmed by his pretty face. Though he was to be her husband, she could not let herself fall prey. The welfare of an entire country sat on her shoulders.

Before Livia even realized it, his hands were on hers and her lips were pressed hard against his. She had not been kissed with such passion in the longest time. A longing down in her core that only men could afford to act upon. “You are to marry my Queen,” Livia whispered between kisses.

Augustus laughed. “I do not care about some spoiled little -”

Livia pushed him away, and it took everything in her not to slap him. But she stood firm before him.. “Goodnight, Your Majesty.” She could marry a lech, but not one who possessed even the tiniest disrespect towards her.


	21. in these bodies we will live [3/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Historical Royalty Verse: With her father recently deceased, Livia awaits her impending marriage to a sheltered prince she's never met.

The ceremony and feast reeked of the pomp and circumstance befitting a queen and her consort. Prince Consort. The only contentious part of the marriage contract. Daniel wished his brother a king, but Livia would not budge. She could hardly be sovereign if she were forced to answer to another. It was Augustus she was told who told his brother it did not matter. Perhaps, it was desperation to leave the countryside and his brother. For that Livia could not blame him.

Leading up to the nuptials, she remained at an icy distance. She did not think he minded, very much, given the look of utter shock and terror on his face when he realized his folly. The girl from the masquerade was no lowly handmaid looking to warm the future consort’s bed, but the woman he was to marry.

_“Your Majesty,” Augustus said, bowing and pressing his lips against her hand, which she, of course, politely extended. He’d practice a greeting for most of the morning, but when he saw her he was stunned to silence. Not because of her beauty, though she was certainly beautiful. But because not even the copious amounts of wine he’d had the night before could erase the woman from the masquerade. His Queen._

_“Prince Augustus,” she said, her voice not betraying her for a moment. “I welcome you to court.” With that, she turned from him, and walked away. Her ladies followed quickly behind her, and the court began to whisper._

_They sat at the raised tables in front of her people, course after course put before them. Livia said little, and Augustus said even less. Finally, the silence was getting to him. Cracking the princely, polite smile on his face. He leaned in close. “I would like to apologize for -”_

_“Kissing one of my handmaidens? Or calling me a spoiled little -?” she asked, her smile not leaving her face as the court could not fully know her displeasure._

_“Both,” he replied quickly. He resisted the urge to remind her that the handmaiden had, in fact, been her. But he had no way of knowing that until she walked through the door not even an hour ago. “My actions were not of a prince, and unbefitting your consort.”_

_For that, she could agree. Livia finally looked at him, the chagrined smile still crossing her lips. “Do not worry, Your Grace. I have no plans to end our betrothal.” That was a lie, she contemplated it all day until her cousin reminded her how important this union was to the country. “But I will not have you sully my ladies’ names.” Her face softened as her eyes fell upon the women and girls who had been her constant companions for years. “They are good girls.”_

_Augustus could only nod. She did not ask him to be faithful, just to not bed her friends. A reasonable request, of course._

When the feast ended, and the lords of land showered the couple with well-wishes, they were led by the bishop to her bed-chamber. Behind a screen, she was dressed in a nightgown, and he in a nightshirt. When Livia came into the room, Augustus was already tucked under the covers. She joined him, and the bishop prayed over the couple. For a happy marriage. For many children. There would be no official bedding ceremony where her council listened from behind a screen as the marriage was consummated. Livia refused. It was her right as Queen. But now Livia and her new husband were sitting in silence in a very large bed.

“May I confess something, Your Grace?”

“Livia,” she said. “In here Livia.”

Augustus nodded. Perhaps accepting her proverbial olive branch. “My brother swept away from court when I was ten. Claimed I was for the Church. I have never -”

In a better world, perhaps, she would confess that she too had no idea what she was doing in the marriage bed, but that would be a lie. Livia was not particularly looking forward to an awkward coupling where they both had to endure and think of their respective countries.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?” Livia asked him, interrupting his words.

“Yes.” A wicked smile crossed his lips. “Do you think me beautiful?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she glanced him up and down. “Perhaps.” The first real smile of the night crossed her lips.

Augustus laughed. Though sobered after a moment. “Have you really had other men?”

The question shocked her. Not the actual content of it, but that he would actually ask her. She avoided his gaze. “Yes.”

Augustus only nodded.

“Mayhaps, the past should remain just there,” Livia suggested. Another olive branch. She could forget his insult. He could forget she’d had others.

“I would like that, Livia.”

Candles flickered in the room, and it appeared to grow darker. They could spend the night talking, and perhaps, she might even like talking with him. But they had a duty to fulfill, and it was best to get it over with. “Shall we begin?”

Augustus fumbled with the ties of Livia’s nightgown. For all the confidence he could exhume outside of the walls of her bed-chamber, here he was entirely out of his element. It was Daniel’s fault, of course. The bastard isolated him from any wenches he might fancy. An attempt to control him. An attempt to prevent any bastards and their mothers from draining the coffers. It worked, and now he was a mumbling idiot.

Livia took Augustus’ hands. “Let me help.”

This was not how Livia expected her wedding night to go. Questions of past lovers, not loves. She never loved any of them. The ones who showered her with affection. The ones who feverishly kissed her. The ones whose hands found their way under her skirts. Only one had gone farther. A foolish, hasty mistake that she made multiple times after her father’s death.

Quickly Livia placed her hands on his cheeks and pressed her lips against his. A kiss more passionate than the one they’d shared at the altar only hours before. “I can show you,” she whispered.

Would it bother him? She wondered. It might embarrass him, but would not an unconsummated marriage be more embarrassing? He wasn't unpleasing to her eyes. She’d dare even call him handsome, though not to his face. And a smile that could certainly make a girl's knees go weak. But Livia was no girl and it was her duty - their duty - to provide the kingdom with an heir.

Red flushed Augustus' cheeks, and Livia couldn't help but wonder how far he'd gotten with a woman. Had he kissed them? Touched their breasts? Their cunts? Was this how a man felt when he took his virgin bride to bed? At least Augustus would feel no pain, lucky bastard. She remembered the sting of her first time. It was unpleasant and she was sore for the rest of the night.

"Take off your nightshirt," she said. Livia rested on her knees before she gripped the lace hem of her nightgown, bunching it up towards her waist then pulling it over her head. She bit her bottom lip, naked before him. That was always the worst part? The first time. What if her body didn't please him? What if his body didn't please her?

Both naked before each other, Livia had to remind herself to remain confident. She'd done this before, he hadn't. Surely anything would be pleasing. Livia took his hand, bringing to her mouth. Her lips pressed against the rough skin. "Touch me," she whispered, taking his hand and running his fingertips down her neck until they rested on one of her breasts.

Livia kissed him again. She'd always liked kissing. Feverishly. In secret. Lips swollen and her breath fast. Yes, kissing was nice.

Augustus' thumb flicked her nipple, as he cupped her breast in his hand. He did not wait for the next instruction, instead he trailed kisses down her neck. When he elicited a moan from her lips, he couldn't help but grow hard.

She smirked as she placed her hand on top of his, dragging down her stomach until he reached her cunt. "Touch me," she repeated. Livia brought his fingertips to her most sensitive area. "Gently."

He bit lightly on her neck, as his thumb gently passed over her bundle of nerves. His lips did not leave her body as he sucked on the tender skin of her breast. Augustus ran his tongue over her nipple, and smirked as he felt her shake with pleasure.

"Yes, like that," her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel her wetness coating his fingers. Slick with desire and ready for him. She took his cock in her hand, maybe one day she'd take him in her mouth. Maybe. She pumped him, just slightly to ensure he was hard enough. He was. She knew he was. Perhaps, she just wanted to touch him too.

Livia removed his hand from her cunt, and straddled him. It would be better this way, no fumbling around as he awkwardly laid on top of her. She lowered herself onto his cock, watching him. Desire covered his face. Livia rolled her hips.

Augustus' wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him until her breasts heaved against his chest. She was magnificent. This time he kissed her, his tongue dancing across her lips. He did know how to kiss, at least. Though she'd learned that the night of the masquerade. Despite their now truce, he had no illusions of love. This - what they were doing - was duty. Not love, though maybe a little bit lust.

Livia continued to buck her hips against him, her breath quickening. It had been months since she had a lover, promptly dismissing them once the marriage negotiations began. The legitimacy of any children she brought into the world could not be doubted. Maybe his seed would take root tonight. Prove to the world his virility and her fertility. A good sign for any marriage. Perhaps, she’d give him a son. Men always wanted sons, but she hoped for a daughter.

Augustus kept one arm around her waist. She rode him hard and deep, and he could feel her begin to tighten around his cock. He was getting close. He wanted her to be close too. With his free hand, he brushed his thumb where she'd shown him just moments before. And she came undone.

"Yes," she moaned, rolling her hips faster, even harder against him. Wantonly. Because this was not how ladies consummated their marriages. But Livia was no lady. She was a queen. Augustus finished first. Though, she was surprised by how long he'd lasted. It only took a moment longer for her to finish, pleasure rippling deliciously through her body.

He kissed her once more before she climbed off of him and buried herself under the sheets. She was out of breath and glowing. A little pride swelled inside of him. For his lack of experience in some departments, he had kissed many women but never a queen. His queen. And as long as they sired children, she would be his in this room.

Augustus was unsure what to do next. But he did not have to wait long before, she lifted the sheets, welcoming him to lay next to her.

In the morning, Livia woke with her head on his chest. Her lady's maids making quick of their work - filling her tub with hot water, laying out her gown for the day, and bringing breakfast to the newlywed couple. She let him sleep, but grabbed an apple from the tray, then climbed into the bath. Some time later she returned to the bed-chamber clad only in her dressing gown.

He was at the table eating. Her eyes fell on the bed linens that would surely be saved as proof of consummation. Several crimson spots stained where she'd slept that night. Her gaze returned to her new husband, looking for answers. Though she needed none when she saw the bandage on his hand.

His gaze met her own. "Appearances," he explained, popping a grape into his mouth.

Livia nodded. She may not have liked her husband very much, but perhaps in this room she could learn to.


	22. we are what we are no excuses [1/2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampire Verse: Despite her best efforts, three hundred years after their deaths, Livia still gives a fuck about her stupid husband.

To say Livia was annoyed as she walked into the lavish apartment her ex-husband leased would be the understatement of the century, though it was still new. There was plenty of time for him to get under her skin. She didn’t knock. Three hundred fucking years and there wasn’t much she hadn’t seen. The curtains were drawn which was ridiculous. The tales of the sun burning the skin of vampires was merely fiction to make the mortals feel safe from those that would hunt them. They were sensitive to the sun, certainly. A bit more than humans, but it was nothing that would kill them. Though knowing Gus, and she did know him well, he’d act as though the tiniest bit of color on his skin was fatal. No vampires had more to worry about than the sun, but since the apartment was in his name, she had no fear walking through the door. Pesky humans and the invitation rules that could kill their betters. Luckily, most humans still thought garlic and crosses would keep the big bads away. The smell of blood was almost overwhelming, but not surprising. A young woman sprawled on the dining room table. She wasn’t dead yet, but her heartbeat slowed with every labored breath. The little human was scared. She prayed to some god Livia was certain didn’t exist.

Livia advanced towards the table. “Shhh,” she whispered. Her fangs extended. She could easily finish the girl off, but knowing Gus, the terrified girl was likely the mayor’s daughter and soon enough the entire goddamn country would be looking for her. Livia bit into the tender skin of her own wrist, letting her blood flow freely into the girl’s mouth. She listened past the pitiful cries to the girl’s heartbeat. It was stronger and the marks on her neck disappeared. Livia pulled back her wrist and swiftly leaned over the table and grabbed the girl by the neck. She stared into her eyes as her pupils dilated. “When I count to five, you will walk out the door and forget this place and anything occurred. You will go home like nothing happened.” Her words were calm, almost soothing.

“Please -” the girl began to beg, not realizing the mercy Livia extended.

The brunette ignored her. “You feel will tired and sick, but you’ll think it’s a hangover. You really should be more careful of the bars you frequent. Avoid the blonds with devilish smiles; they’re nothing but trouble.”

“I just -”

“One…”

The girl began to cry, tears running down her face.

“Two…”

She struggled against Livia’s grip.

“Three…”

She whimpered, prepared now for the inevitable death she would face.

“Four…”

The girl blinked away her tears.

“Five…” Livia finished, releasing the girl’s neck.

Her tears ceased. She sat up on the oak table then pushed herself off and walked out the door.

“Spoilsport,” a voice said from the kitchen.

Livia turned to face him, a scowl on her face. A look Gus was no doubt accustomed to receiving. “Mayor’s daughter?” she asked.

Gus shrugged. “Better. Governor’s.” He held up a wine glass filled almost to the brim with thick, warm, delicious blood. “O positive; your favorite.”

She took the glass from him, and took a sip, letting the metallic tasting liquid coat her throat. Exquisite, but nothing worth exposure over. Livia closed her eyes for a moment. She traveled quickly, so it had been two days since she enjoyed something fresh. She placed the glass on a coaster and sat down on one of Gus’ impractical and uncomfortable chairs.“In trouble. Come quick. Not a booty call,” Livia said, repeating verbatim the text message he’d sent her thirty-six hours before. “What, pray tell, is a booty call?” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his explanation.

He grinned, clearly amused by himself. “A colloquialism young people use, darling, for calling one over for sex.”

Livia rolled her eyes. “Did you really have me travel a thousand fucking miles for you to -”

“Witches are trying to kill us!” Gus quickly said.

She stopped, and not a single emotion betrayed her face. He used the word ‘us’ as if they hadn’t been estranged for the better part of the last two decades. The fact that she even gave him her cell phone number was kindness in and of itself. “What did you do?” she demanded.

“Why do you always assume I did something?” he demanded in return.

Liv stood from her seat, advancing towards him until she had him pinned against the wall. “Because I’m your wife, asshole.”

Many thoughts ran through Gus’ mind - the most prominent being: _how the fuck did they always end up in this exact position?_ But there was no time for his mind to wander where this could so easily lead; they were dying after all. He placed his hands on her hips, turning her so her back was now to the wall, his forearm against her neck. “I killed some witches, darling,” he said bluntly.

“That doesn’t explain why they are trying to kill me.” She pushed him off her.

Gus shrugged. “Afraid of retaliation?” he mused, turning from her to his liquor cart. He poured of scotch and held out a glass towards her.

Livia shook her head, picking up her glass of blood and taking another sip. While their tolerance for alcohol rivaled any tried and true alcoholic, she did not think it was wise to lose their heads before their apparent doom. Retaliation? Part of Livia was flattered that their lessers still uttered tales of their destruction throughout Europe. Once, she reveled in it all - when she was younger and the wounds still fresh. “They overestimate my feelings for you.”

Her words stung, but Gus learned long ago that he could not always take Liv at face value. She wouldn’t have shown up if she didn’t care. “Well, you can tell them all about it while they’re killing me.”

She rolled her eyes then wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. “How exactly do you know of their plans?”

“I don’t exactly. Just whispers of a weapon and the full moon.”

Always the full moon. Witches were so predictable that way. Livia sat down again and propped her feet up on the coffee table then folded her arms. “Plan of attack?”

Gus shrugged. “Kill everyone?”

Her mouth hung open. “You brought me here, and you don’t even have a fucking plan?” Of course, he didn’t. Because _she_ was his plan. Liv wanted to slap him. Rip his beating heart out of his chest and watch as he withered away. She’d save the witches the trouble of killing him, and maybe they’d spare her in return.

He sighed. “Do you still have the ring I gave you?” He paused for a moment. “The other ring.”

Part of her wanted to be difficult and say she threw it in the ocean, but she long suspected that sentiment was not behind the gift, so she didn’t. She pulled up the white gold chain that was around her neck, revealing two rings - the diamond-encrusted gold band he’d given her shortly after Octavia’s birth and the even older gold ring with wording even she couldn’t read. He told her it was a declaration of love, and at the time she didn’t believe him.

“One of us should be immune to their tricks,” Gus told her. His gaze was caught on the other ring, though. He quickly looked away. They didn’t talk about Octavia, or at least Gus learned long ago not to bring her up. Sometimes, it surprised him how fresh it all felt. The pang of loss was rarer now; he’d shed his humanity before Liv did. He figured that was why Liv always left; he was the constant reminder of everything she’d ever lost.

Livia stared at her husband, sometimes ex-husband depending on the day and her mood. Words uttered centuries ago played in her head. _There’s no world for me without you in it._ “So, you go in front, and I go in the back?” she asked. Gus the distraction while she picked off puny witches. He was old, so he had a fighting chance. The older ones were always harder to kill.

Gus nodded. “We’ll leave when the sun sets.”

She finished her glass of blood then swung her feet down from the table and stood. “Where are the weapons?”

* * *

The two rode in silence. A small arsenal in their trunk, but Gus knew the greatest weapon he possessed was sitting in the passenger’s seat. Many days she hated him. He knew that. She’d begrudgingly accepted his marriage proposal. If her father hadn’t lost his fortune, she’d have been some other man’s wife. The thought made him sick. The moment Gus saw her, rebuffing his brother and any other suitor who came her way - he knew. Livia LeBeau would be his wife. Maybe she would have been happier had Gus not been such a selfish bastard. But they were happy, truly happy even if it was fleeting and gone too soon.

“Do you remember that coven in the seventies?” Livia asked, breaking the silence.

Gus glanced at her and smiled. “Which seventies?”

She leaned her head against the window, the cool glass against her cool skin. “Eighteen,” she replied.

He didn’t. At some point, their enemies just blurred together in his mind. The enemies they made from the destruction they caused were always more dangerous than those looking to make a name for themselves. There was passion in revenge. Revenge fueled even the weakest of creatures. “I remember you scandalized half of Europe of those gowns of yours.”

Livia bit her lip to keep from laughing. Instead, she frowned playfully. She sat up straight. “Not in Paris.”

Gus smile, looking from Livia then back to the road. “We should go back there,” he suggested. “After this, we should go back to Paris. Spend all day in bed and paint the town red all night.” He reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Paris,” Livia repeated. Though she did not say what they were both thinking: _if we live_.

Gus stopped half a mile from the church. It was better if they finished on feet. Quieter, though no doubt the witches would be prepared. “Liv,” Gus said once they’d both gotten out the car, and he’d tucked a few knives into his pockets.

She turned to him. “Hm?”

He walked towards her until he was inches away. He wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her close. Gus pressed his lips against hers. When they parted neither spoke. They didn’t want to say what it was, a potential goodbye.

Livia placed her hand on his cheek and pressed her forehead against his for a moment. She never wanted to be this. A monster. He made that decision for her, and for years she hated him for it. But three hundred years and Livia could not imagine a life without him. The pain, the happiness, the sorrow, and oh the fights. It was worth it.

The pair separated - Gus taking the obvious route while Liv went around the back. She always hated swamps. Too many alligators and snakes, not that either could hurt her. Once she was close enough, she listened. They were still chanting. Whatever weapon they were creating, they hadn’t accomplished it yet. Screams. Gus was inside. He was struggling, but so were they. The witches standing guard left their post. Liv made her way inside. Three dead witches already, but Gus was crumpled on the floor. He was losing. Dying. Livia ran quickly, snapping the necks of two that were standing guard.

Three of the witches turned to face Livia, chanting some Latin she’d never bothered to learn. The words did nothing. No searing pain or great shows of strength. The little trinket Gus had given her worked.

Livia laughed then a devilish smile crossed her lips as she made her way from one witch to another, snapping their pretty little necks. Maybe they would live after all. But the last witch - she was tricky. More powerful than the others. She continued chanting. The altar glowing. There was something protecting her. Something Livia could not pass. Then her eyes fell upon the cross. She ripped it from the wall and hurled it at the witch. It pierced her side and she fell to the floor. Whatever shielded her from Livia broke, and Liv advanced towards her. She grabbed the woman by the neck, lifting her with one hand. With her other hand, she tore out the witch’s heart, dropping it and the woman on the floor. The blood was intoxicating, and if Livia’s own heart could beat, she knew it would be racing. Gus brought this out in her. The best and the worst.

Bellowing wails broke Liv from her trance. Her eyes no longer affixed on the blood dripping from the now dead witch. She almost didn’t believe her eyes. The altar ceased its glowing, and a tiny bundle wiggled on the table. She knew that cry. Livia’d walked the earth for three hundred years. She’d long forgotten her mother’s face and her father’s voice, but not hers. Three hundred years, and it could be another three hundred more and Livia would never forget the three months and eleven days she’d spent with that little girl. She glanced around the room. Gus was barely stirring, and normally she might help him up. Instead, she walked slowly to the altar, wiping her bloody hands on her shirt. As Livia lifted the baby, her cries ceased.

“Octavia,” Livia whispered.


	23. for all the times i never could [2/2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampire Verse: Despite her best efforts, three hundred years after their deaths, Livia still gives a fuck about her stupid husband.

They rode in silence. Livia stunned into speechlessness. Gus focused on the road sprawled before them. The only sound was the tires on the highway and the wind blowing through the window that was just slightly cracked. Neither of them wanted to talk about the bundle haphazardly wrapped in Gus’ leather jacket, safely cradled in Livia’s arms. Octavia. The name seemed foreign now, one they both desperately tried to forget. It was easier that way…to not think about her. Livia shifted her in seat. While being a monster had several advantages she was certainly not immune to her limbs falling asleep.

“She needs to eat soon,” Livia pointed out, breaking the silence.

Gus stared at her for a moment, confused. “Can’t you…” he began, glancing down at her chest.

Livia scowled then rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t have to teach you basic biology. I’m dead, and even if I weren’t that dried up long ago.”

He made a face, apparently disgusted by the idea.

She rolled her eyes, yet again. Livia defied normal convention when she refused to hire a wet nurse. _Can I not feed my own child?_ When her milk dried up two weeks after Octavia’s burial, she sobbed for hours. “We’ll have to get formula and a bottle and -” She sighed. “I’ll make you a list.”

“Me?” he asked suddenly as if she’d just dropped the hardest task on him.

Livia chuckled. “Fine, you watch her while I go to the store.” She remembered most things about those few months they spent with Octavia, but she couldn’t recall him ever being alone with her. There was always someone there with him.

“I’ll go to the store,” he replied, a bit too quickly. His attention returned to the road. They were in the middle of nowhere, and if he had to guess, at least two hundred miles from that church now littered with dead bodies and hopefully charred after they set it ablaze. “How much further to the safe house?”

She glanced out the window at a weathered sign on the highway. “Four more exits, turn right onto the main road then left on the third dirt road.” The safe house, as she called it, was an old mansion - probably crumbling and covered in dust - but it was one of the few properties not under either of their names. It belonged to one of Livia’s sister’s descendants. The old woman who owned it was dead now, but she’d been convinced to make her long-lost niece executor of her estate. She invited her and any of her family to live there.

They rode in silence again. At some point, probably a century ago, they stopped with the small talk.

As Livia imagined, the mansion was in rough shape. Long in need of a paint job, she was relieved to see that at least vandals hadn’t scaled the iron fence to destroy the place. She’d need to call to get the electricity turned on and water running, but for now, it was a place to sleep and figure out their next step.

* * *

When Gus returned from the store, Livia was still in the same place he’d left her - staring at their daughter as she slept in a makeshift bed. No, doubt listening to every breath her little lungs took. He coughed, not entirely sure why. Livia likely sensed him the moment he’d pulled up in the driveway.

Livia turned her head to look at him. She fussed with Octavia’s blanket that she’d found in one of the bedrooms before standing and walking towards him. She began going through the plastic grocery store bags. Infant formula, a bottle, filtered water and baby wipes. “You forgot diapers,” she said. While he was gone, she compiled an even longer list of things Octavia would need. A proper crib, warm clothes, a stroller and a car seat. But a precursory search online showed nearly endless lists of so-called necessities.

Gus didn’t reply, instead, his eyes were on Octavia. His first good look at her. They left the church quickly, and Liv kept her wrapped in his jacket in the car ride. There was a twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Octavia was long a blur in his mind. 

“I’ll have to get the power turned on tomorrow…and the water.” Livia glanced around the room. Old furniture that even she would call antique covered the rough, wooden floors. “There’s so much -”

“How do you even know she’s ours?” Gus asked. **  
**

“I don’t remember what my parents’ faces anymore or my mother’s voice, but I remember her, Gus. Every detail of her has been etched into my brain since the day she was born.” Livia glanced towards her makeshift bed. “I can feel it. I hear her heartbeat, and I know. I smell her, and I know. She’s ours.” She paused. “She’s mine.”

Gus looked away because he knew she wouldn’t take well to what he had to say, and he’d been at the other end of her hate many times before. “We can’t keep her.”

Livia was silent for a moment. She hadn’t even fully considered him in all of this. The life he led. The debauchery and bloodshed. No, Livia just thought they could pick up where they left off three hundred years ago. She laughed, spitefully. “Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do? This isn’t 1714 anymore, _Augustus_. You do not own me.” She began to turn away, but he grabbed her arm, his fingertips pressing into her skin.

“I am your husband.”

“My husband?” she asked.

Dread filled Gus.

She laughed again. “My husband?” Livia advanced towards him, her finger poking him in the chest. “When were you my husband? The nights you used me without a second thought of the consequences?” She cocked her head to the side. “I get lost in your cunny,” she mocked. “Always were the sweet talker.”

“Liv -”

Livia backed away from her, fire in her eyes. “Or was it the night you took me from her?”

Now, Gus was angry. Because while he might not remember every detail of their daughter, he would never forget finding her in that wooden tub. The fabric lining and water stained red from her blood. The water was cold when he pulled her out. Her heartbeat slow, almost nonexistent. He prayed his blood would save her. Close the wounds, make her whole again. Alive. It made her whole, but not alive. “I couldn’t lose you,” he hissed.

“You are taking me from her again.” It was a warning.

“She deserves a normal life, Liv! A _human_ life,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice low to not wake the sleeping infant.

“She deserves her parents.”

Octavia began to stir.

“She deserves a chance,” he replied now avoiding his ex-wife’s gaze.

Closing her eyes, Livia tried to clear her mind. Tried to pretend he wasn’t saying all of the shit that was coming out of his mouth. Finally, she spoke, “You’re a coward.” Now she was just pissed. “You didn’t want her then, and you don’t want her now.”

“That’s not fair,” Gus hissed. “You knew how I felt about children.”

Livia laughed. “And yet it never stopped you from climbing into my bed, now did it?” The words were venom in her mouth. It certainly wasn’t all on her. Livia didn’t roll over and get herself pregnant.

Gus ran his fingers through his hair. He knew she was right, that despite the risks of pregnancy, it never stopped him. “There weren’t as many options then…”

She scoffed. “I’m well aware. I was the one who carried the baby, remember? Endured agonizing labor from sun up until sundown.” Livia looked down at Octavia, tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t cry very often. It was a human emotion, and she wasn’t human. “And I would do it again,” she said, still not looking up at him. “I would do it a thousand times if it meant keeping her.”

“Why do you think those witches brought her back, Liv? Defiled our child’s grave?” While Livia was apparently planning the goddamn nursery, his mind hadn’t stopped thinking about the why. Why they’d taken her bones. Why the performed a nearly impossible ritual. Why they risked weakening their coven. And the answer was simple - Octavia made them vulnerable. Whether it was her existence or her blood or some nefarious plan, she made them vulnerable.

“We’re her parents. We’ll protect her.”

“She will be our death, Liv.”

Octavia finally woke, her stomach growling. Her face scrunched up in frustration as the tears began to fall. 

“Then leave!” Livia screamed, which just made Octavia wail louder. She turned her attention back to her daughter, picking her up and rocking her. “Shhh, it’s alright, sweetheart. Mommy’s here.”

Gus turned to walk away. His footsteps slow. He stopped at the living room’s entry, his fingertips running along the chipped white paint that Livia would certainly have stripped to reveal the original woodwork. “She deserves to live in the light,” he said before pausing for a moment. “No matter how long we can walk in the sun, we will never live in the light, Liv. And one day she will know of all the fucked up shit we’ve done.” His mind wandered to how they survived. Blood and terror. Nothing to which their innocent daughter should be exposed.

There was a nagging voice in Livia’s head that told her he was right, not that she would ever admit it. A more selfless mother might even agree with him, but Liv had lost Octavia once and it killed her. She would not lose her again. “We’re her parents. She belongs with us,” Livia stated firmly, before placing a kiss on Octavia’s temple trying to calm their increasingly upset daughter.

“I can’t do this, Liv.”

Three hundred years. They’d had plenty of arguments in that time, but none of their partings ever felt final. Oh, he’d come crawling back in a decade begging for forgiveness, or he’d fuck up again and need her help. It was a cycle that even at the times she hated him most, she could not break. There was comfort walking in the darkness with the only other monster who held the same baggage that you did. “Then leave,” she repeated. Her voice was quieter. No longer dripping with anger but with resolution. “And don’t come back. Not in ten years or a hundred.” Livia wasn’t stupid. She knew even then back when things were blissful and they were human that his feelings for Octavia paled in comparison to her own.

“Liv -” He felt like he was sinking.

Livia’s eyes fell on Octavia, still hungry and waiting. “She’s part of me, Gus, and I won’t let her go.”

There many things Gus wanted to say. Words that were stuck in this throat. He knew that Octavia would have a beautiful life with Livia. That no mother would ever be as devoted or strive so hard to be better as her. _All I ever needed was you_ , he wanted to say, but held his tongue because he knew that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Because she was well-aware of that fact. “I love you,” he finally decided.

“I know.”

Livia didn’t look up again until she heard the door close, and his car start. She blinked back tears, but through it smiled down at Octavia. “Let’s get you something to eat, little one.”

* * *

_Livia does not tell him when the pains first begin. The midwife and doctor both warned against false labor pains, and her cook complained endlessly about them when she passed on her motherly advice. Gus thought she was intruding. Livia was grateful for any advice she could receive. But when the sun rose and the pain hadn’t stopped, she knew. Hobbling down the stairs and into the kitchen, she plainly said, “Mrs. Weatherly, I believe it is time. Have the boy fetch the doctor and midwife. Do not tell Mr. Lesauvage.”_

_Bracing herself against the oak handrail, Livia began to climb the grand staircase. The maids would wake soon, and she would have them put fresh linens on her bed. It was when she reached the top of the stairs she felt a rush of fluid down her legs, her waters breaking. She would not be making the trip down the stairs again. “Augustus!” she screamed._

_After a moment of loud fumbling, Gus appeared from the master bedroom still clad in his nightshirt and not much else. His gaze fell to the puddle at her feet._

_“The boy is going to fetch the doctor. I need you to wake the maids.” Her voice was calm, knowing her husband would panic enough for the both of them._

_Gus nodded, not fully having processed the situation._

_“And, please, put on pants.”_

_Livia continued towards her bedroom. It had barely been used since they married. Despite convention, Gus enjoyed sleeping next to his wife. And Livia enjoyed it as well. His arms wrapped around her body, keeping her safe and warm._

_The maids did quick work of preparing the room - fresh linens on the bed, a fire to take the chill out of the air and water boiling in a pot. By the time they finished and she was tucked into bed, the doctor and midwife arrived. The former waited in the drawing room with Gus as the midwife examined her._

_The woman smiled as if to reassure her that things were progressing._

_Livia lost track of the time, but when the sun set, she was exhausted. The pain was nearly unbearable now. One of the maids placed a cold rag on her head._

_In the drawing room, Gus paced back and forth, expecting the doctor to work some miracle and speed the entire ordeal along. But the man was only there if complications arose. The birthing chamber was a woman’s domain, he’d gruffly told the expectant father. Gus was not so sure. “Are you certain things are…moving along?” he asked._

_“These things take time, Mr. Lesauvage.”_

_A scream from upstairs startled both men, and Gus could no longer wait. He ran quickly, not bothering to knock on the door. The midwife looked as though she were ready to slap him for invading such a private place. “Livvy?” he asked, moving closer to the bed._

_Livia was drenched in sweat and more tired than she’d ever been before. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, though part of her was grateful. She groaned as another contraction hit her._

_“It will be soon now, Mrs. Lesauvage.” The midwife looked at Gus. “Mr. Lesauvage, stay or go, but make a decision.” She returned her focus to Livia. “I want you to begin pushing.”_

_Gus sat down in the chair near the bed, reaching to take Livia’s hand._

_Livia did not hold back her screams as she pushed. The pain resonating throughout her body. And after what felt like hours of pushing, there was a relief and a cry. The sweetest cry that had ever befallen her ears. A cry for which she’d been waiting to hear for months. “What is it?” she asked, her falling the midwife as she cut the cord connecting them and wrapped her baby in a clean, soft blanket._

_“You have a beautiful girl.”_

_She squeezed Gus’ hand, hardly containing the excitement she felt._

_“A girl,” Gus repeated. He was a father, and while his worries for Livia had hardly vanished, the look of pure happiness on her face was like nothing he had ever seen before._

_The midwife gingerly placed the baby in Livia’s arms._

_“Hello, my sweetheart,” the new mother whispered. She placed a kiss on the infant’s head._

_Gus smiled, the first one on his lips that day. “Octavia,” he said without being prompted. “I think she should be called Octavia.”_

_Livia looked down at their little girl. “Octavia,” she repeated. “Is that your name, little one?” They had not spoken of names, Gus’ mother was convinced it was bad luck, and Livia had no mother to pass on such superstition. She looked up at her husband. “I think it is. Octavia.”_

Gus was not sure what possessed him as he made the illegal u-turn across the highway. He knew it was selfish, not that selfishness was foreign to him. They deserved better, but they were all he had left. And ten years seemed so much longer now. A hundred, an eternity. It was selfish. He was selfish.

When Livia heard a car pull up in the driveway, she hoped it wasn’t the neighbors with their Southern hospitality. There was too much going on for her to tolerate humans. Octavia, luckily, was asleep again with her belly full. Livia would have to get her on a schedule and there was no Mrs. Something-Or-Other to help this time; it would fall on her shoulders alone.

A knock brought Livia back to reality. Neighbors - no. She ran to the door opening it. “What are you -”

“I brought diapers,” Gus said, holding up a package that said ‘Pampers’ with a baby on the front that was not nearly as cute as Octavia.

“You brought diapers,” she repeated.

Gus looked down at his feet before looking back up at her again. “I can’t promise I will be any good at this, Liv, but there’s no world for me without you…so there’s no world for me without her too.”

“And the witches?”

“We’ll kill them all.”

Livia opened the door, welcoming him inside.


	24. but the fire is coming [1/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mafia AU: Livia Lesauvage died in an accident of twisted metal and fire. So why, two years later, does Augustus Lesauvage find himself standing in rinky dink kitchen staring at his very much alive wife?

“Hello, wife.”

The words startled Livia and she nearly dropped the bag of groceries she held at her side. She glanced down at the stroller, Octavia babbled happily as she chewed on a strawberry. She was cutting a new tooth, so the reprieve from her cries had been a relief. For a moment Livia wondered how far she'd make it if she threw the bag in his face and ran. Not far. They were on the second floor and he'd catch her at the elevator. “Husband,” she finally said.

His gaze fell on the stroller, and a look of realization spread over his face. “Pack a bag, you're coming home.”

Livia scoffed. “I'm not going anywhere with you."

He stood from the kitchen table. “Pack your fucking bag.”

She laughed. “Or what?” She placed the groceries on the entryway table and folded her arms. He wouldn't hurt her - not on purpose and not physically, at least. No the scars she had were all metaphorical.

Gus’ expression hardened. “There's an easy way to do this or there's the me throwing you in the trunk way.”

Livia glared. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me.”

She looked down at Octavia who'd finished her strawberry and was beginning to look nervous. “I'll scream.”

“I doubt your neighbors will care.”

It was true. The apartment wasn't in the greatest area. The last place she thought he'd ever find her - rinky dink one bedroom that hadn't been updated since the the 90s, at least.

Gus glanced around the kitchen, his eyes fell on a loaf of bread and discarded empty pasta box in the trash. “Since when do you eat carbs?” he asked, suddenly.

She couldn't help the sharp laugh that escaped her lips. “You're kidnapping me and you're asking me about carbs? Seriously, Augustus?”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping towards her. “Is it kidnapping when Grace Valer doesn't exist and Olivia Lesauvage is dead?”

Livia frowned. Her glare returned.

“Pack a bag for you...and it,” he said, motioning towards the stroller.

“My daughter is not an ‘it’, asshole.” She shouldn't be surprised. He never liked kids - she could count on half a hand the amount of times he'd actually seemed open to having a family. That never stopped him from finishing inside of her, though. He'd always taken immense pleasure from that.

Finally, Gus had reached her side. He gripped her arm, not hard enough to leave a bruise but enough that she could not easily pull away. She watched him, his gaze locked on her and entirely ignoring the 18 month old who now stared at him intently.

Octavia's brow furrowed. And she let out a wail. “MAMA!” she screamed.

“It's okay sweetheart,” Livia said in a soft, soothing voice. “This is Gus. He's…” She paused, eyeing him with contempt. “A friend.”  _ Your father. _

“Gus Gus?” she asked. Cinderella was a favorite in this house.

Gus rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Liv?”

He had to be mocking her at this point, or else umdoubtedly drinking himself into a stupor for the last two years had done a number on him. “You're the one threatening her mother.” His name had been GusGus in her phone until the day she  _ died _ . “She can call you a mouse if she damn well pleases.”

“It's a girl.”

Livia ripped her arm away. Damn the bruises. “Yes! That's what DAUGHTER means. Do I need to say it in another language? Fille. Tochter. Aughter-day." Fuck, she'd forgotten her Spanish but French, German, and pig Latin wasn't too bad. She rolled her eyes. He knew she was a girl, Livia didn't put the damn bow in her hair (or lack thereof) for no reason.

“If you say so.” A smirk on his lips.

He was trying to piss her off, of course. He liked her best when she was feisty. She knew that. “Where are you taking us?”

Gus looked surprised. “Home, love. Home.”

She shuddered at the word.  _ Home.  _ When she carried Octavia, their house plagued her thoughts. The baby proofing they'd do. The nursery she'd design. Some days it took everything in her to keep from running home.

“Pack,” he said, once again. “The plane leaves in an hour.”

She raised a brow. “Private?”

“What else?”

Livia knew he wouldn't risk a public flight. Too many opportunities for her to scream that he was kidnapping her. She eyed him, his hand on the handle on the stroller. “How many men are outside?”

“Two.”

“Daniel?”

Gus’ grip tightened and any softness in his face disappeared. His neutral expression now a frown. “Dead.”

_ Dead.  _ Dead like her or dead-dead, she was tempted to ask but didn't. “How?” she settled. Her eyes searched his face for an answer.

“You know how I value loyalty.”

She suppressed the urge to vomit. Loyalty. Hadn't she been the least loyal of all? Did he know? How Daniel helped her? How he begged to go with her and she refused. Just because Livia wanted to be free of her husband did not mean she wanted to run into the arms of another and certainly least of all her brother-in-law. But he'd been easy to convince to play a role in  _ her _ freedom. He never knew about Octavia. “I do,” she whispered.

Gus smiled, ruthlessly. Perhaps he basked in her discomfort? The tightness he must have known she was feeling her chest. The guilt that rose in the back of her throat. The fear that crept upon her that she might suffer a similar fate.

Livia knew he wanted her to squirm, but she did not want to give him such satisfaction. She took deep breath and began walking to her and Octavia's bedroom. She threw in a few changes of clothes and stuffed the diaper bag with Octavia's prized possessions. There would be hell to pay if she forgot Tavi's favorite stuffed animal - a teal and purple unicorn. Of course, her daughter would choose one of the few things Liv had brought with her from  _ home _ . Gus had won it for her on their second wedding anniversary when she'd convinced him to take her to the carnival.

_ “It's almost as obnoxious as Disneyland,” he complained. _

_ “Wait until you give me some babies and we drag you there,” she replied. “You'll look so cute in those ears!” _

_ “Babies.” _

_ “Half a dozen at least.” She knew she had him going. As if she'd risk her figure for half a dozen screaming brats. _

_ “I draw the line at two.” _

_ Livia rolled her eyes. “Fine. Two.” Her voice dramatic, as if she were making some huge sacrifice. A grin crossed her lips. “You know...we could go home and practice making those two babies.” _

_ “Practice does make perfect.” _

_ “It does.” She bit her bottom lip before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. “Let's go so you can ravish me.” _

_ “Isn't it your turn to do the ravishing?” His hand crept down the small of her back. _

_ They barely made it to the car. _

Livia finished packing and took one last look at the room that had been her solace for two years. The room where she held Octavia on stormy nights and promised that she'd always protect her. It was a terrible apartment but Octavia's first home. They'd been happy, at least.

She wanted to cry, but wouldn't give Gus the satisfaction. No, the best road to freedom was to play along.

“Let's go home.”


	25. hand me my armor [2/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mafia AU: Livia Lesauvage died in an accident of twisted metal and fire. So why, two years later, does Augustus Lesauvage find himself standing in rinky dink kitchen staring at his very much alive wife?

Livia was silent as Gus drew the bath. In fact, she'd barely said a word since he'd pulled her and Octavia into his arms, and told them both that they were safe. _The bad man is gone now._ The words were meant to comfort Tavi, of course, who could not possibly understand who the "bad man" was or why he'd attacked her mother. The "cleaners" were downstairs tidying up and disposing of the body, no doubt. Tavi was not tucked precariously into her bed, half placated by a bottle and some children's show that was far too colorful and cheery. Livia did not even protest as Gus peeled off the t-shirt that was stuck to her body. Dried blood. Luckily, none of it was hers. As he gingerly stripped her of her bloody garments, nothing escaped her lips. Numb. That’s what she felt. Numb. Gus held her hand, stabling her, as she climbed into the tub. He took a rag, and began wiping away the blood that stained her skin.

She wanted to scream.

To cry.

To curse.

Maybe even to pray. Of all the reactions that was the silliest.

But, instead, she sunk deeper into the hot water. In her nearly thirty years of life, she’d only seen one dead body before tonight. And, certainly, her mother’s cancer was not Livia’s doing. No, tonight Livia took her first life. Her first kill. It was self-defense, nothing cold blooded. But there was pleasure in watching the life drain from that bastard’s eyes. He threatened her and her daughter, and more than ever she understood her husband. Why any threat had to end in blood.

Gus dipped the rag into the water, wringing it out and bringing back to her skin. His touch was so gentle. She'd forgotten just how soft he could be.

Livia didn’t cry, but Octavia did. Her screams cutting through the silence as she finished the bottle.

“I’ll get her,” Gus said, standing from where he sat next to the tub.

He’d never offered before.

Livia didn't have the energy to argue. To point out that he might do more harm than good. It was not as though Octavia was overly comfortable in Gus' presence. But wasn't that Livia's fault? She hadn't even given him the chance to be a father. The guilt was eating away at her. Slowly, painfully.

 _“Shhh. It’s okay.”_ Livia heard Gus say from the sitting area, now nursery, of their bedroom. She imagined him picking her up and rocking her. Awkwardly because Gus had no experience with babies.

Her eyes fell on the bath water and the now discared rag - red. Her skin was clean, though.

 _“I know that was scary, and I know you want Mommy.”_ There was a pause, as if Gus was being careful with what he said next. _“But I am going to take care of you. Mommy too.”_

_“Mama?”_

_“Shhh. It’s okay Tavi. I’m here.”_

Daddy’s here, she wanted to hear, but he didn’t say it. Why would he when he refused to ask her the damn question?

Livia stood from the tub, no longer being able to handle sitting in the bloody water. It made her skin crawl. She threw on a shirt. One of his from the looks of it. Water dripped on the tile floor, then the carpet as she stood in the bathroom doorway.

By some miracle Gus had lulled Octavia to sleep. So, Livia just watched. She’d never seen him hold her before. There was an ache in her chest for everything that could have been. The first time they heard their baby's heartbeat. Months of his hands on her belly as their baby kicked. Arguing over paint for an actual nursery. Complaining about the names the other chose though ultimately the decision would have been hers. When they first married, she’d been so green. Visions of the children they’d have and the happy life they were bound to share. At twenty-one, all she knew was that he made her happy. At twenty-nine, now all she knew was that despite it all she loved him and he loved her. She betrayed him. He loved her. She refused his attempts at reconciliation. He loved her. She stole his child. He loved her.

As carefully as Gus had helped her into the tub, he placed Octavia down in her crib.

“She’s yours,” Livia finally said.

Gus looked startled as she spoke, his eyes falling on her. “What?” he asked.

Livia stepped closer and closer until she reached him. She took his hand and pressed her lips against his knuckles. There were new scars she hadn’t noticed before. “Octavia is your daughter. There was never... _has_ never been -” But before she could finish, Gus pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips hard against hers. 

And she let him. 

More than anything, she wanted him to take away the pain. That ache in her chest. He’d always done it before. Chased away her nightmares. Held her when she cried. Kissed her skin when she felt like clawing it off. It killed her to lose that part of him as the distance grew and she became his solace but he was no longer hers. In the last years of their marriage when he took and took, but never gave.

The dam broke, and now she was sobbing.

Gus watched her as they parted. Concern shrouded his face. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Livia avoided his gaze. Her eyes falling on the carpet still stained from when she’d thrown a bottle of nail polish at him after a particularly vicious fight towards the middle of their marriage. He didn’t have it cleaned. He once told her it was a reminder that she threw harder than him. A joke. But now it just felt like another stain against them. “That first night, you asked when I stopped lov-”

“We don’t have to do this,” he said quickly, cutting her off.

She looked at him. The concern had turned to fear. Despite the fact that she just dispelled his worst fear, he still couldn’t help but be afraid of her words. Of a possible truth. It gave her power, but not the kind she wanted. “Yes, we do.” Silence destroyed them once before. It wouldn’t again.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “Liv -”

“I never stopped loving you. You kept pushing me away. Again and again.” She choked back another sob before running her fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t your wife anymore. I was there to be fucked and...” Livia closed her eyes. “I didn't feel like you-” She couldn't finish the sentence. The words were stuck in her throat. In the last days of their marriage, she doubted his love. He married her. She was his responsibility. She was there to remind him of who he'd once been. She was there to absolve him of his sins.

Gus pulled her closer, both arms around her waist. His hands rested on the small of her back.

“I had to leave before I stopped loving you. Before we were stuck in a loveless marriage." _Before we became our parents._ "She deserved better than what we had.” Once Livia dreamed of a house full of kids. Perfect little copies of her and Gus.

“Livvy, I was just trying to protect you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Livia laughed. “I took your daughter from you. I let you think I was dead...and you’re sorry?”

He closed his eyes. “I didn't mean to push you away.” There was a quiver in his voice. “I didn't want this world to corrupt you.”

She laughed again, this time it dripped with bitterness and then amusement. “Baby, we were born corrupted.” Livia looked up at him. She ran from it once, but that was wrong. Now, Livia knew exactly what she needed to do. Who she needed to be. “I won't be on the outside looking in.” Not again.

* * *

In the morning before the sun rose and Octavia woke for the day, Livia found herself in Gus' arms. Two years she'd spent without his touch. Half dazed from exhaustion, her lips were hungrily against him. Her hands desperately pulling at his sleep pants. He never wore a shirt to bed.

“Are you sure?” he murmured into her lips, his fingers caught in her hair.

For a moment, she said nothing. Livia remembered the nights he crawled into their bed, freshly showered to remove the blood from his skin. In the beginning, his hands would slowly move down her body and his lips wouldn't leave her skin. Half the time, he'd get her off with just his fingers and mouth, finding peace as she came undone. Those nights she'd wait up for him. Towards the end, he'd take her quickly from behind. Then she stopped waiting up, instead pretending to sleep. He didn't touch her those nights. Didn't pull her towards his chest so she could fall asleep listening to his heart beat, safely tucked in his arms. Didn't pepper her skin with kisses. Instead, those nights, he turned away from her and the silence between them grew.

“Fuck me,” she finally replied because now she was the one in need of absolution.


	26. there's beauty in your violence [3/?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mafia AU: Livia Lesauvage died in an accident of twisted metal and fire. So why, two years later, does Augustus Lesauvage find himself standing in rinky dink kitchen staring at his very much alive wife?

Octavia sat in the back seat of her father’s navy SUV as he drove down the street from her school. Her arms were folded and she had a signature sullen expression that Mommy claimed she’d inherited from Daddy. Her eyes were red from the tears and there was a small bruise yellowing beneath her eye. The tears threatened to fall again. “Is Mommy going to be mad at me?” she finally squeaked when her father pulled to a stop at a red light.

Gus’ gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. “Probably.”

She gulped, then looked down at her hands and pulled at the hem of her now ripped shirt. “Are you mad at me?”

His expression softened. “How can I be mad at my best girl?” 

Tavi looked up at him, knowing her days as his best girl were numbered. Soon, she would be one of his best girls. Even at six, she knew that. But it didn’t bother her much. She was excited about the baby. 

Gus smiled at her, then returned his eyes to the road as he continued driving. His hands gripped the wheel tightly. 

Tavi wanted to ask him what he was thinking. But she didn’t. Instead, she watched as the scenery from her window as they passed the ice cream shop then Mommy’s favorite fabric store, then finally pulling onto the familiar street where they lived. She sniffled back some tears. She hadn’t meant to get into a fight, but Anna Hardgrove kept telling her lies. And lying was bad too! Both girls would have to write an entire paragraph on why fighting was not okay. A  _ whole _ paragraph! That didn’t seem fair, but the teacher was very mad. She’d even scolded Daddy, and only Mommy was allowed to do that. 

Once the car was parked in the garage, Tavi waited for her father to get her out of her booster. He scooped her into his arms, and carried her into the house. Mommy was at the table, waiting. She only did that when Daddy was in big, big, really big trouble. But it wasn’t Daddy this time. Octavia frowned, keeping her head down. 

“Octavia Grace Lesauvage.”

Tavi winced. 

Livia stood from her chair, one hand gripping the table and the other on the small of her back. 

“Mommy, Anna said -”

“I don’t care what Anna said. You know better than start fights at school.” 

“But Mommy!” Octavia tried to explain. She felt Daddy squeeze her tight. The tears that had previously threatened to fall now streamed down her face. _It’s not fair!_ _Anna started it!_ She wanted to scream the words, but bit her tongue instead. 

“Liv -” Gus said, giving her a look that Tavi didn’t fully understand.

Livia’s face softened to a more neutral expression. “No tv or dessert for a week. Now go work on your homework. We will talk later.” 

Octavia pushed at her father so he would let her down. Once he had, she grabbed her backpack from his grip and began to run to her room. Halfway up the stairs, she stopped and turned to look at her parents. “Anna Hardgrove said Daddy is a bad man and that he hurts you!” Tavi yelled before the tears began to fall harder and she turned to finish running up the stairs. “You said lying is bad!” 

* * *

Livia was stunned at Octavia’s outburst. She gripped the edge of the table again, then sat down. She felt tears welling in her eyes. She’d been angry when she and Gus got the phone call that Octavia had been fighting at school. That she’d bit and punched some girl named Anna, and that Anna had punched her back. It wasn’t like Tavi to fight. She was more evenly tempered than both of her parents. Now the anger just turned to immense guilt. Of course, people thought Gus hurt her. Why else does a woman leave her husband with no warning? They’d ignored the whispers and stares they received from “business” partners. Eventually, it died down. Anna’s family must have been connected. 

When she looked up, Gus was avoiding her gaze. His eyes locked firmly on his shoes. A pained expression on his face that made her chest ache. After a moment, he walked towards her, getting down on his knees and taking her hands into his own. He pressed his lips against her knuckles, then released her hands and placed one of his on her belly. 

“I don’t think we should punish her,” Gus said, cautiously.

She rolled her eyes, snapping out of the self-pity, she was sinking herself into. “Of course,  _ you _ don't.” Gus loved playing the hero. Daddy was the one who gave her extra scoops of ice cream and let her stay up later than her bedtime. Mommy was the one who made her finish her homework before she could watch tv and always made her go to bed 7pm every night.

Gus eyed her for a moment. “I seem to remember a seven year old little girl who once pushed a little boy out of a tree house when he pulled her pigtail.” 

Livia scowled. “It was three feet off the ground and my mother had just died. You deserved it for being annoying.” 

He wasn’t about to argue with her on that. She’d been so quiet the days following her mother’s death, so distant that he welcomed the knock on the head he’d received if it meant getting some reaction from her. “And some little brat just told our daughter in front of all of her friends that her knight-in-shining armor is a bad man who hurts her mommy. That Hardgrove girl shattered her world.” 

“Fucking junkies,” Livia mumbled. The irony of her words was not lost on her. She’d been to rehab twice before the age of twenty, but after over a decade of sobriety, she felt the moral superiority that let her judge them. Besides heroin had never been her drug of choice. There wasn’t necessarily bad blood between the three families. They dealt in very different trades. The LeBeaus and Lesauvages found drug smuggling beneath them. Not the Hardgroves. 

“I think you need to talk to her.”

“I hate when you’re right,” she said with a scowl before extending her hands so he could help her stand. 

* * *

Octavia sat her desk, pencil in hand as she prepared to write her punishment paragraph. So far, she had written  _ Fighting is bad because _ but hadn’t brought herself to finish the sentence. Fighting wasn’t bad when it was for someone you loved. Both her mommy and daddy had told her that. And there was no one she loved more than Mommy and Daddy! She groaned as she crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it into her backpack. She’d rather do math than this, and  _ that _ was saying something.

A knock on the door startled her. She looked up, surprised to see her mother. Usually, it was Daddy who gave in first. 

“Can we talk?” 

What choice did she have? Tavi nodded, her eyes remained on the addition sheet she’d pulled out. She scribbled some numbers down on the paper, and frowned when she came to 8+5. That one always stumped her at first. A moment later she watched her mother walk across the room and sit on her bed next to her unicorn. It’d been her favorite toy for as long as she could remember.

“Sweetheart, I want to talk to you about what Anna said.” 

“Anna’s a liar,” Tavi said, very assured of herself. Her daddy was  _ not _ a bad man, but what if Anna knew something she didn’t? That worried her. 

Livia smiled, reassuringly. “Do you think Daddy is a bad man?” 

“No!”

“Then what does it matter what Anna thinks?” 

Octavia brows furrowed together. “But she said -” 

“Does Daddy give  _ her _ an extra scoop of ice cream when he thinks Mommy isn’t looking?”

“How did you -” Tavi frowned. Mommy wasn’t supposed to know that secret. It was just between her and Daddy. 

“Does Daddy snuggle with her during thunderstorms? Or help her practice her tap dancing? Or -”

“- go to all my tea parties?” Octavia finished, a smile crossing her lips. “Or let me sit on his shoulders so I can see the Christmas parade?” 

Livia returned her smile. “Well, does he?”

“No,” Tavi confidently. He’d never even met Anna. 

“So, tell me, Octavia Grace - do you think Daddy is a bad man? Do you think he hurts Mommy?” 

She frowned, no longer confident in her answer. Hurt wasn’t just a hit. Sometimes you could hurt and not feel any ouchies at all. Like, when Darcy ran away for a week. Even Daddy seemed hurt. “He makes you cry sometimes,” she admitted softly.

Livia leaned in and placed her hand on Tavi’s cheek. “Sometimes we hurt people on accident, but I don’t think Anna meant that.” 

Octavia watched her mother. She looked sad and got quiet like she did when she talked about her own Mommy and Daddy. Tavi liked looking at pictures of her grandmother. There weren’t many of her grandfather. “What did she mean?”

Her mother smiled, but there were tears in the corners of her eyes. “Sometimes mommies and daddies are not nice to each other, and they are mean and hurt each other on purpose. I think that’s what she meant.”

“That’s horrible!” Octavia exclaimed, standing from her desk chair and almost knocking it over. “Daddy would  _ never _ do that!”

Livia pulled Octavia closer to her, and motioned for her to sit next to her on the bed. She wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. 

Tavi closed her eyes, leaning into her mother’s embrace and burying her face in her mother’s hair. It smelled like peaches. “Why did Anna say those things, Mommy?” That’s what she didn’t understand. 

“I don’t know, sweetheart. But Mommy and Daddy love each other and you. And your sister will love you too,” she said before placing a kiss on Tavi’s head. 

Octavia placed her hand on her mother’s tummy. She still wasn’t sure how her sister got in her mommy’s belly. When she asked Daddy, he just got all sweaty and nervous and told her to ask Mommy. And Mommy just started crying and saying that she couldn’t believe her baby was growing up which got Daddy even more nervous. Sometimes her parents were just really embarrassing. She was six after all. “Daddy’s a good man,” she finally said, very confident of her answer. 

Livia smiled. “I agree, sweetie.” She kissed her again. “So, I’ve decided that because Anna clearly started this fight that you will only miss tv and dessert for two nights instead of the entire week.”

She threw her arms around her mother’s neck and squeezed her tight before saying a quick “Yes!”

* * *

Gus was brooding when Livia walked into their bedroom. His typical self-loathing bullshit that Livia usually shut down quickly.

“Penny for your thoughts, my love?” she asked, standing behind him as he sat in front of their television. He had on some nature documentary. White noise practically. 

“Hardgrove,” he mumbled. 

Livia stared at her husband for a moment. Any time even the smallest incident happened with a possible rival, it was a potential for crisis mode. If the Hardgroves were talking about the state of Livia and Gus’ marriage or even just Gus, they could be plotting something much worse. But she didn’t think this fell under a  _ family _ issue. “Anna’s father is Marcus Hardgrove who is Kate Hardgrove’s brother.”

A sudden look of realization crossed Gus’ face. “Oh.” 

“Mhmm,” Livia replied. She moved in front of him to sit next to him on their loveseat. “Besides Anna is a nosy little bitch who eats paste, and our daughter can make much better friends than her.” Maybe part of Livia should feel bad for calling a child a bitch, but she didn’t. 

“I think you're just mad I got to second base with her aunt.”

She glared at him before attempting to shove him off of his seat. “Don't talk like that in front of the baby!” 

“Oh yes, because I am certain our fetus knows what second base is.” He was amused, and Livia wanted to smack that smirk off his face. 

“She’s bright.” Livia's scowl turned into a smile. “Like her mother and sister.”

“No doubt, my love.”

“No more talk of your past whores.” 

“I was fifteen and  _ you _ wouldn't give me the time of day,” he pointed out, defending himself. 

She glared, then her expression softened which in reality she knew was slightly more terrifying. “Fine. Let's talk about how far I let Michael Acker get at Sophomore fall homecoming. I was fifteen after all.” 

Gus’ expression hardened. 

And Livia could see clearly how she'd turn the tables on him. She knew just how he felt any time he had to think of her with anyone else. 

But then Gus surprised her and a smile crossed his lips. “You might have been going to second base with Michael Acker at fall homecoming. But remind me what you were doing at winter homecoming?”

“Getting to third base with you in the backseat of your dad's car,” she replied, begrudgingly. They probably would have gone further if Daniel hadn't interrupted them. He was utterly scandalized and spent the rest of the night berating Gus about taking advantage of impressionable girls. As if Livia hadn't been the one to drag Gus to the car half an hour into the football game because she was bored. “Shut up!”


End file.
